Cloak and Dagger
by Batman Lamp-Writer
Summary: Sequel to RWaD. With his family doing damage control, Danny is finally able to relax with his new friends and his uncle. But when his uncle's former employers discover he's alive, they decide to take it out on his hidden family. 3-way cross.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So, here's to hoping I'll get this chapter out before school starts on the first…. And that I can get housing at college -.- Also, hoping this gets done before the hurricane. Little bit terrified about that, honestly….

Welcome to the sequel to Red White and Dead! If you haven't read that one, it's strongly suggested, otherwise you'll be quite a bit confused and I'll spoil the ending for you. This is put in the DP/AR cross-over section, but the Alex Rider characters really don't show up en masse until next chapter, sorry! There will also be the BAU team from Criminal Minds in this, just so you know, but sadly, this site does not have a section for three-way cross-overs.

General warnings for this story: violence, language, angst, and suspense. ...hmmm, yeah, I think that about covers it….

Playlist for this chapter: "Going Under" by Evanescence and "Falls Apart" and "Outta Control" by Thousand Foot Krutch.

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Reid nervously walked into Hotch's office of his own volition as opposed to being ordered or pulled in. Of course, the topic he wished to discuss was the same as the topic Hotch always called him in about. Danny Fenton.

The teen had retreated into himself a bit more after receiving the package from this Yassen/Cossack person. He was never seen without the collar and iPod nano, and he even regularly washed the Ruski Rock shirt to wear under a T-shirt each day. Reid had also noticed that Danny would get caught off-guard or daydreaming more often, and he sometimes responded in Russian when distracted.

Needless to say, Reid was worried. What if this Yassen/Cossack guy was making things worse? Already Danny's small bit of progress seemed to be thrown out the window as he ignored the agents all together some days, instead listening to his bright green iPod and staring off into space.

And yet… Danny was smiling more often, blushing when caught off-guard, and generally seemed happier. He would hum or even sing along with his music and turn bright red if caught doing so, rubbing the back of his neck and laughing in his embarrassment. He wasn't falling back into his runaway state of mind, either. If Reid saw him taking food from a pantry, he'd simply state he'd gotten hungry and ask Reid if he wanted some of whatever had been grabbed.

Still, Reid felt the need to speak with Hotch about the change in Danny's progress. So, he peeked his head in Hotch's door and knocked.

Hotch glanced up from his paperwork and invited the rather nervous genius in. As the young agent sat down, Hotch asked, "What did you want to talk about?"

"Um, it's Danny…."

Hotch's eyebrows peaked in concern. "What about him?"

And so Reid explained his conflicting thoughts on the mysterious Russian gift-giver. Hotch simply listened, thinking each point over as Reid brought it up.

Finally, when Reid had gone silent, Hotch sighed. "Has Danny still been answering the calls from his friends and family?"

Reid nodded. "Everyday at four. He talks for hours with them, too. I once ha to practically hang up for him one night. He was still speaking with Sam at 10:30."

Hotch chuckled. "Then I don't think you need to worry too much, Reid. But, if it's still bothering you, talk with Prentiss. She might have been able to read some of that note Danny got with his delivery."

Reid absentmindedly nodded, already standing and heading for the door. "Thanks, Hotch," he called as he left, heading straight for Emily Prentiss' desk. He glanced around quickly, making sure Danny was out of earshot. "Hey, Prentiss?"

She blinked up at him, taking in his nervous posture with an eyebrow raised. "Yeah, Reid?"

"I, uh, was wondering if, um, if y—you'd managed to read any of the n—note Danny got in—in that package last week?"

Prentiss' eyes went wide. "Um, yeah, I saw a little bit of it. But I just skimmed it, so I didn't get a good idea what it was talking about…."

"What _did_ you see?"

"Uh, nephew, renting an apartment, Washington D.C., keepsakes, stay, twenty-third, three in the afternoon…. There was a P.S., but I didn't get a chance to read any of it."

Reid paced between a couple desks. "So it's from Danny's uncle. Must be talking about when Danny can move in to his apartment…."

"At three in the afternoon tomorrow?" One of Prentiss' eyebrows had quirked up again.

The genius froze, realizing that didn't sound quite right. "Maybe it's a meeting time? For when the uncle would get into town?"

Prentiss thought it through, nodded. "Maybe. But shouldn't we just ask—?"

"N—No!" Blushing at Prentiss' shocked stare, Reid added, "I'm just being extra careful, and I don't want to worry him over nothing…."

Both glanced up when they heard humming coming from the hallway that led to Garcia's bunker. The two shared a grin as Danny walked by, oblivious to the onlookers. He made circles with his right wrist, clenching and unclenching his fist and flexing his arm at the elbow. It was a habit Morgan first noticed immediately following Danny's cast being removed. Whenever they brought it up, Danny would blush and explain that he was trying to restrengthen his arm after a month and a half of no use.

But Danny simply walked by, heading down another hallway. Reid sighed, looking back at Prentiss. "I'm sure he'll tell me if it's important."

Prentiss glanced once more after Danny, murmuring, "I sure hope he will…."

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"No way, _really?_"

Reid chuckled at Danny's incredulous expression. The teen was on his cell phone, talking with Sam. They'd been on the phone for two hours now, and Reid was trying to determine how to get Danny's attention for dinner.

Danny saw Reid waving him over and held up a hand, signaling to wait a minute. "No, no, Sam, I just…. It's getting close to dinner, and— ...Yeah, I know. ...Sorry, I…. It's not really something I can control. ...Well, about tomorrow…."

Reid's ears perked, straining to hear as much as he could without being obvious about his eavesdropping.

Danny was blushing slightly. "I'm gonna be hanging out with my uncle. He's getting in tomorrow around three, so I'll call you as soon as I can, okay?" He sighed. "I know, I'm sorry it's such short notice. ...No, I think I can convince him to join our Skype call on Saturday. ...Yeah, no problem. ...Uh-huh, I'll try to call around five. ...Okay. Bye, Sam." He chuckled at something she said, responded with another good-bye, then hung up and came over to the table.

The temporary roommates grinned across the table at one another as they set the table together. Once all the food was set out, they sat down, Danny closing his eyes for a moment before reaching across the table for mashed potatoes.

Reid smiled, letting Danny fill his plate as much as he wanted and barely holding back his snicker at Danny's subtle way of saying grace before his meal. It was the little things like this that amused Reid, especially when his ward thought he didn't see. Reid was glad to see that wasn't changed by the mysterious uncle.

Speaking of whom….

"So, what was that you were telling Sam about?" Reid asked as he began filling his own plate.

"Which part?" Danny asked, barely remembering to swallow his food before speaking.

"The not being available tomorrow at four part."

"Oh, that." Danny shrugged. "I'm gonna be out with my uncle. Y'know, catching up and stuff."

"Your uncle's in town now?"

"He will be tomorrow. His plane gets in at three." Danny set down his fork, sighing. "I won't be able to move in with him until the weekend, but I wanted to pick him up from the airport myself."

"Will we get to meet this mysterious uncle of yours?"

Danny chuckled. "Yeah. Sorry I haven't told you guys about him, I just haven't seen him in a while. He travels a lot 'cause of his work."

"What kind of work?" Reid asked, wondering what job would necessitate so much travel—before remembering that could easily describe his own job.

"Similar to you guys, he works for a group that deals with international cases. He's been pretty much everywhere, but I wouldn't really say he liked his job." Danny's lips quirked and his brow furrowed as he rethought his last statement. "Well, I guess I can't say he hated it, either. But it brought in money, which he used to get Mom a good start here in America."

"Oh?" Reid did a very poor job acting nonchalant. "Your mom grew up somewhere else?"

Danny smiled wryly at the agent. "Yeah, don't bother. You heard us talking, you saw the writing on the package and note, and you've seen my choker and iPod. The whole team knows Mom's Russian."

Reid blushed, trying to stammer out an apology.

Danny chuckled. "It's _fine_, Reid, neither of us mind all that much. If we _had_, we wouldn't have been speaking it in front of you guys."

"R—Right…."

The two continued to eat for a few minutes, Danny quickly going through a plate and a half of food before pausing again.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked, not quite meeting Reid's gaze and picking at the table cloth. "About my uncle, I mean. And me."

Now Reid's brow furrowed as he tried to think why Danny brought it back up. "Sure."

"He had a mentor, when he first started his job about twenty-some years ago. His mentor meant a lot to him. They did pretty much everything together, and he was my uncle's best friend. My uncle would do anything for him, and he even saved my uncle's life. My uncle loved him, so much, in fact, that he convinced Mom to use his mentor's name rather than his own for my middle name. At the time, he made the excuse that it was more 'American' than his name, but he told me a couple years back that it was the least he could do in remembrance of the man who saved his life. That's why my middle name is Hunter, not Yassen."

Reid took a moment to absorb what Danny had just told him, but recognized the look on the teen's face. Time for a subject change. "So, when is the last time you saw your uncle?"

Danny grinned sadly. "Just after the accident with the Portal."

"Did he know you were—?"

"Phantom? Yeah, not much gets past him. He's hyper observant, something Jazz and Mom got, too. Of course, Mom tends to ignore or overlook things she deems impossible, even if they're just improbable."

"And you?"

Danny blinked. "Huh?"

"Did you get the hyper observant gene?"

The teen blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'd like to say I did, but my friends call me clueless a lot…."

At that, Reid simply had to laugh.

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"So, he's picking up his uncle then?" Morgan asked, an eyebrow raised. The team had gathered at Reid's request, Garcia dragging Danny away so they could speak freely.

"This afternoon, yeah," Reid replied. "He said he can't move in until the weekend, so he's just hanging out with his uncle until then. Oh," Reid turned to Prentiss, "the uncle's name is Yassen. I'm still not sure why he used the name Cossack, but Danny still hasn't said much about him."

"What _did_ he say?" Hotch inquired.

"Ah, his job requires him to travel a lot, so Danny hasn't seen him since just after his accident with the Portal. His uncle knows about his ghost-half, and Danny said that he was hyper observant."

"Anything else?" Rossi wondered, wanting as much information as possible on this unknown uncle.

Reid thought back. "Um…. He admitted his mom is Russian, and he kinda already knew we knew. Also, he mentioned that his uncle used whatever he made to help Maddie start a life here." Reid chose to keep the story of Hunter to himself, realizing it was something Danny wanted kept quiet.

"So when are the two of you heading to the airport?" JJ asked.

Reid blushed. "A—Actually, Danny wants to go on his own. He'll take the bus to the airport, and he'll call me to meet them for dinner."

The group took a moment to think that through, each wondering what this Yassen person would be like.

"Hey, Reid?" a voice called from the doorway.

All six glanced up in surprise to see Danny standing there. The teen grinned in embarrassment and amusement at catching them off-guard. "Sorry, but, um, I wanted to talk to Reid before I left…."

Reid spared a quick glance at Hotch, who nodded, before following Danny out.

They came across an empty room and went in, Danny shutting the door behind them before turning to Reid. He nibbled his lip, eyebrows peaking as he stared at the ground and scuffed the floor with a foot.

Reid blinked, not having expected this kind of vulnerability from the teen. "Danny? What's wrong?"

"W—What if I—What if I changed too much?" he murmured. "I—If he doesn't recognize me or if I can't—" He cut himself off, glancing up at Reid. "I'm still—It's not a problem around you guys, since you've done nothing but help me since you found me, and I was still in shock around my family, but I noticed the other day that—that I get panicky around anyone else. I—I mean, someone bumped into me in the hall yesterday and I _freaked_. W—What if—if it's the same around Uncle Yassen? I—I haven't seen him in _years_, and now I won't even be able to hug him when I pick him up! N—Not that he's very touchy-feely in the first place, but still—"

"_Danny._"

The teen stopped his ranting (and subconscious pacing), wide, scared blue eyes locking onto Reid.

"It'll be _fine_," Reid continued, smiling reassuringly. "Your uncle sounds like a good guy. You already know he's on your side, especially with him knowing about Phantom. And even if you do have trouble, I'm sure he'll understand if you tell him." Reid knelt to Danny's eye level, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. He saw the slight flinch at the contact, but only because he was looking for it. "You'll be fine, Danny. No one can fault you for this after everything you've been through. And you can even learn to use it to your advantage."

Danny blinked, still wide-eyed, but curious now rather than scared. "H—How?"

"By learning to feel out a threat before it comes. Like your ghost sense, but for humans."

There was a long moment where Danny thought that through. Then, he smiled widely. "Thanks, Reid."

"Anytime. Now, don't you have a bus to catch?"

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Danny easily slid the correct change into the slot as he boarded the bus, picking out a seat near the front and sitting. His phone rang only once before he pulled it out and answered. "Hello?"

_"Hello, Daniil,"_ the called replied in Russian.

Danny slipped effortlessly into his uncle's native tongue. "Hey, I'm on my way to the airport now. What's your ETA?"

_"We're on time. Fifteen hundred hours. The BAU let you out?"_

The teen chuckled. "_Mama_ told you, huh? Yeah, they let me. But they'll want to meet you."

_"Of course."_

"In fact, I was hoping to invite Reid to dinner with us tonight."

_"The one you're staying with?"_

"Yeah. Would you mind?"

_"It's fine. I'd like to meet him, too."_

Danny grinned brightly. "Great! I really want you all to get along. I think you'll like him, though. He's almost as observant as you are."

_"He found you out, hm?"_ Danny could hear his uncle smirking.

"Yeah, he figured out. I really don't mind, though. They really helped me out a couple months ago."

_"You'll have to tell me about it."_

"Don't worry, I will."

There was a slight pause, then, _"So, what security question should I ask this… Reid?"_

Danny smirked now. "Number three. I told him last night. But I wanna be there when you ask to see the look on Reid's face."

His uncle laughed. _"No problem, Daniil. You looked over those keepsakes, though, right?"_

Danny rolled his eyes. "Yes. I've kept them on me since I got them."

_"Good."_

The boy sighed. "Nothing's going to happen, _dyadya_. No one's connected you to _Mama_ in almost twenty-four years. I doubt they'll connect you two now."

_"Better safe than sorry, Daniil."_

"I know." Danny sighed again. "Thank you, but I hope I won't be needing to use any of these keepsakes."

_"You and I both."_

"I'll see you soon, okay?"

_"_**_Da. Do svidaniya_**_."_

"_Do svidaniya, dyadya_ Yassen." Danny hung up, smiling for a moment down at his phone before exhaling heavily and leaning his head back against the bus' window, turning his head sideways to look out it.

It was such a happy, bright day. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky, and the sun shone down on the whole city. There was a little traffic, but nothing too horrible, and Danny could see the airport in the distance. Danny could practically _feel_ the warmth of the sun on his face and relaxed back, closing his eyes and grinning vaguely.

He never should've shut his eyes.

Everything happened all at once. There was a screech and honking and the world spun. Danny and several other passengers were lifted out of their seats as the bus tipped over and before Danny could even open his eyes again there were bright flashes of red and white, then everything went black.

The dark lasted only a moment. As he blinked back to semi-consciousness, he heard the squealing tires of cars trying to swerve around the bus. Some made it, but Danny felt the vehicle jerk again, the roof (which was now on the side) caving in from the impact. The teen winced, tucking his head in to avoid the bending metal inches above him. At the same time, a third car slammed into the underside of the bus, causing it to turn and the metal to shriek as it scrapped against the asphalt. But it had only just begun to turn when one last vehicle smashed headlong into the roof, actually tearing straight through the weakened metal, lodging against the seats just a yard from Danny's face.

The boy was barely conscious to begin with, but when he saw the knocked-out driver in the car and the blood pooling inside the bus, he nearly passed out. Instead, he crawled towards the car, grimacing with each movement as his body warned him that his ankle and arm had been reinjured. But he forced himself forward, first checking the driver's pulse before opening the car's door and attempting to pull the driver out.

Another horn caught his attention, and he spun to look out the front windshield. His eyes went wide as another vehicle, this one a truck, smashed through, shoving the bus back and tossing Danny headfirst against the car. His world went dark once more.

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Danny, like most of the unfortunate travelers going through Arlington, VA, that day, never saw the power go out on the traffic lights. In fact, the outage lasted barely a second, but it was enough to mess up clocks, appliances, and the traffic lights themselves, turning every light green. Those few unlucky vehicles to be going through the intersection of South Glebe and South Arlington found themselves either dodging or joining the massive pile-up that had begun with a bus and pickup truck going through the light at the same time but from different roads. Four other vehicles joined the pile-up before people got the message to avoid that intersection.

Of course, the outage caused more than just the one set of lights to malfunction, but none of the others were as busy at twenty-to-three on a weekday. There were two close calls and three other crashes, but none as bad as Glebe and Arlington. As such, no one was surprised when the ambulances all aimed for that crash site.

It took only ten minutes for a line of emergency vehicles to arrive at the intersection, paramedics rushing in and out of the pile-up, pulling out survivors and bodies.

One such paramedic climbed into the bus, immediately noticing two rather roughed-up passengers. The elder was leaning over a young, pale boy with dark hair that was matting. He'd obviously received a gash on his head from being thrown against the car.

The conscious passenger locked eyes with the paramedic and nodded. Then, the two picked up the boy, carrying him out and loading him into one of the waiting ambulances. The van pulled away, blending in with the others that were spiriting the crash victims away.

Ten minutes later, an abandoned cell phone rang on the bus, the caller ID reading YASSEN.

No one picked up.

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A/N: So, yeah, we're jumping right on into things. Sorry about the cliffy and any liberties I took with bus routes/light malfunctions. I couldn't hunt down a bus route that went from Quantico to Arlington, so I made one up. Also, I'll probably be going through radio silence this weekend thanks to Irene, so if I don't respond to reviews, that's probably the reason. And, yes, all the chapters will be about this long. :D Anyway, read and review, please!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hi. So, I'm actually moving tomorrow (just to my off-campus apartment (yay for last-minute openings!)) and my Japanese class might try to kill me this semester. Basically, I don't know exactly when the next chapter will be up, but know that I'm still writing and am actually about two or three chapters from the end (if the plot doesn't twist on me).

In other news, chapter two and the introduction of our Alex Rider characters! Also, thanks go out to Twillightfairy, dragondancer123, alyssakuga, and Amazing Bluie for the gadget ideas. Other than a couple that I've made up myself, all gadgets have been introduced as of this chapter.

WARNING: Spoilers ahead for the Alex Rider series up to Crocodile Tears. This goes for the whole story.

Chapter Playlist: "Give Me a Sign" by Breaking Benjamin, "You Know My Name" by Chris Cornell, and "Believe Me I'm Lying" by Forever the Sickest Kids.

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At five-fifteen that afternoon, Reid was just finishing up his last report when his phone went off. He smiled, thinking it was Danny calling about dinner, and answered without checking the caller I.D.

"Hello?"

A panicked voice met his ear, the caller speaking too fast for him to understand.

He blinked, pulling the phone away for a second and seeing that it was an unknown number, before replacing it at his ear. "Who is this? How did you get this number?"

_"It's Sam Manson,"_ the caller replied, voice still off-pitch and anxious. _"Danny gave me your number in case I couldn't reach him."_

"S—Sam? W—Well, Danny's still out with his uncle, so maybe he just—?"

_"He didn't forget! He _**_wouldn't!_**_ He promised yesterday he'd call at five, but he hasn't yet!"_

"M—Maybe he's running late?"

_"He hasn't been late for _**_any_**_ of our calls since we left. Something's wrong, Reid. Danny wouldn't blow me—_**_us_**_ off like this."_

Reid knew for a fact that Danny wouldn't skip out on talking to Sam, seeing as she was his obsession. But the agent didn't want to worry Sam any more than she already was. "Alright, Sam, I'll call Danny myself, okay? We'll find out what happened."

Her sigh crackled over the line. _"Thanks, Reid."_

"No problem." They exchanged good-byes, and Reid hung up before dialing Danny's cell phone.

Four rings later, he heard Danny's voice stating, _"I'm not available, leave a message if it's important,"_ before he hung up. Reid stared at the phone for a moment, then redialed, hanging up before the voice mail message even finished. Reid leaned over his desk, trying to think of what could cause Danny to not answer his phone.

He didn't even hear Garcia approach. "Um, Reid?"

He jumped, spinning around to face the pale-faced technical analyst. "W—What, Garcia?" Then he frowned when he noticed how scared she was. "What's wrong?"

"Y—You said Danny took a bus to the airport, right?" She was fumbling with a universal remote.

His brow furrowed. "Yeah, why?"

She simply pushed a button on the remote, changing the channel of the TV on the far wall.

Reid turned to face it as the anchorwoman reported on-scene at a pile up in Arlington. Seeing the mangled bus on the screen, Reid grabbed the remote from Garcia and turned up the volume.

_"—a traffic light malfunction at 2:50 this afternoon, a public transit bus and pickup truck started this six-car pile up at the intersection of South Arlington and South Glebe. There were several injuries and even some fatalities, but we're still waiting on identities for many of the victims. If you know of someone who may have been in or witnessed this crash, please call—"_

Reid jabbed the mute button, turning to face Garcia. His own face had gone ashen, and he barely noticed that Morgan and Prentiss were standing by Garcia. "That—He—"

"Oh, sweetie!" Garcia rushed over to hug Reid. "I'm sure our boy's alright. After all, if he _was_ in that mess, he could've just phased away."

"Hey, Pretty Boy," Morgan began, placing a hand on Reid's shoulder, "we don't even know he was there. In fact, with how excited he's been to see his uncle, he would've probably already been at the airport when the accident happened."

Reid shook his head, pulling away from them. "H—He's not answering his phone. S—Sam even called me when she couldn't get a hold of him."

"Maybe he's still busy with his uncle," Prentiss tried.

"He's not," a new voice answered.

All four spun to face the thin, ginger-haired man coming towards them. His pale blue eyes and lithe form were reminiscent of Danny's own, and the team immediately knew this must be the infamous Uncle Yassen.

The man slinked straight up to Reid's desk, placing a cell phone on it. "I found that on the bus," he stated, "but no Danny. He's not in any of the hospitals the accident victims were taken to, either." He took a step back and observed the four before staring down Reid. "You are the one he is staying with, yes?"

"Y—Yes, Dr. Spencer Reid. You must be his uncle Yassen?"

"I am. But forgive me if I must make sure you are who you say. A side-effect of my job is healthy paranoia."

Reid's brow furrowed as Garcia snuck away to get Hotch, Rossi, and JJ. Morgan and Prentiss shared confused looks. "How do you plan to make sure?" Reid asked.

"What's the story behind Danny's middle name?" Yassen said instead.

All three FBI agents blinked, but Reid quickly recovered. "You had Maddie use Hunter instead of your own name to honor the man who mentored you and saved your life. When did you last see Danny?"

There was a moment's pause, then the man smirked slightly. "Just after the lab accident that made him Danny Phantom. He didn't tell me what you all helped him with a couple months ago, though."

Reid nodded. "He wanted to tell you face to face. How did you know that was Danny's phone?"

Morgan and Prentiss had gotten completely lost, as had Hotch, Rossi, Garcia, and JJ, who had just arrived.

Yassen picked the phone up once more. "There are eleven missed calls from a 'Sam,' two missed calls from a 'Reid,' and one missed call from me." He pulled up the missed calls screen and showed it to Reid. "We need to find him."

"What's going on here, Reid?" Hotch demanded. "Who is this?"

Reid jumped slightly. "H—Hotch! Um, th—this is Danny's uncle. W—We think Danny is miss—"

"Kidnapped," Yassen interrupted.

Hotch's glare turned on the Russian. "And what makes you think that?"

Yassen taped at the phone for another moment before pressing the speaker button. _"You tried to trick us,"_ a three-fold disguised voice hissed from the device. _"_**_We dOn't tAke wElL to bEIng triCkeD. YoU toOk ouR bEst agEnt, nOw wE haVe yOur nEphEw. YOu knOw wHat wE wAnt, bUt wE'Re nOt paTieNt. You hAve a daY bEfoRe he wAkeS uP aNd wE stArt oUr fuN. OuR aGeNt or yOur nEPheW. ChOoSe wIseLy._**_"_ Yassen tossed the phone back onto Reid's desk, but Garcia snatched it up quickly.

"I'll see if I can trace the number and clear up the voice," she said, rushing off.

"What were they talking about?" Rossi asked. "What agent?"

"Those were my former employers," Yassen began succinctly. "The agent they spoke of is me. They do not take well to their employees retiring, so I faked my death almost two years ago. Apparently, they found that out, as well as discovering my family. As to the 'fun' they mentioned…. We must find Danny soon."

"Who were your employers? Who _are_ you?" Hotch snapped.

"My employers were Scorpia. I am Yassen Gregorovich."

There was a moment of quiet where everyone took that in. Then, Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss each drew their guns, aiming at Yassen. JJ backed up, not quite sure what was going on, and Reid gaped at the man.

"Y—Yassen _Gregorovich?_" Reid finally stuttered. "B—But, he's—he _died!_"

"I was shot," Yassen corrected, "and the only living witnesses were two impressionable teenagers who didn't realize my shirt was bulletproof and I'd taken a powerful sedative."

"He's—_you're_ an assassin?"

Yassen shrugged, highly relaxed for a person with four guns pointed at him. "Yes, I was. But I retired from that job two years ago."

"Why should we believe that?" Morgan snarled.

The Russian's eyes hardened. "They tried to make me kill my mentor's son."

Reid and JJ blinked, both lowering their guard some. "Why would they want you to do that?" JJ asked.

"Both as a test and because they realized he could become dangerous." He went silent for a moment, thinking something through. "Actually, he may be quite helpful to us in getting Danny back."

"Why should we trust you?" Rossi demanded.

Yassen turned his hard eyes on Rossi. "Because I could've killed all six of you in the time you've been deciding whether or not to shoot me, but I didn't." That caused the whole team to stare in shock, Prentiss even lowering her gun in surprise. "The point is, I cannot rescue Danny on my own. I need your help, and, if we can get it, I'll need Alex Rider's help, as well."

Hotch stared Yassen down, studying him closely before holstering his weapon. "I'll see what we can do."

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Alex Rider grinned as he walked in the door of his uncle's house in Chelsea, England. He lived there with Jack Starbright, a curly-red-haired American woman who had been hired nine years ago by his uncle to watch him and help with housework. The two had had a tough year immediately following Ian Rider's death as MI6 happily used Alex on several deadly missions, but they hadn't been contacted since Alex's fifteenth birthday almost sixteen months prior.

Alex shook the thought from his head, sliding a hand through his fair blond hair. There was no need for him to be thinking of his awful year with MI6. Not when he had a football season starting up soon. He headed into the kitchen to grab a snack, passing Jack on the way. He paused when he saw how pale she was. "Jack? What's wrong?" he asked.

"We got a call just now, Alex," she stammered, "from the Royal and General Bank."

There was a split second where the sentence wouldn't compute for Alex. Then, he felt the ground drop out from under him as he connected the dots.

The Royal and General was _not_ just a bank. It was the main headquarters for MI6. If they had called, that could only mean one thing.

They were dragging Alex back into the spy world.

"No," he finally declared, "I'm not doing this anymore."

"They aren't giving you much choice," Jack mumbled sadly. "My visa actually _has_ expired, and I need to go to the States to renew it." She grinned weakly. "At least they want you to go with me."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "They _want_ me to go with you? That's… not like them. It's too easy, too much like letting us do as we please." He brought a thumb to his mouth, nibbling on the nail. "There must be a loophole…."

"Alex…?" Jack prodded after a long moment of him simply thinking.

He sighed. "I s'pose we'll have to go, like it or not." Decided, he stood. "C'mon, Jack, we'd best head to the bank. Wouldn't want to keep Mr. Blunt waiting, would we…?"

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

For once, the receptionist at the Royal and General Bank was helpful to Jack and Alex. All to often in the past, the woman would blow them off as an annoyance. Alex supposed the change of heart was more due to orders from the heads of MI6 than any pull he himself had.

Either way, the two soon found themselves sitting across from Alan Blunt and Tulip Jones, the Head and Deputy Head, respectively, of Great Britain's Special Operations. Mrs. Jones was, as per usual, sucking on a peppermint, not quite meeting Alex's eyes. Mr. Blunt was as emotionless as always, grey eyes dead, grey lips set in a stern line, grey hands folded on top of his desk.

"Hello, Alex." True to form, Mr. Blunt ignored Jack. "Sorry to call you here on such short notice—"

Alex scoffed at that, rolling his eyes.

Mrs. Jones gave Mr. Blunt a cold glare, short black hair flipping about her head as she turned to face him.

Mr. Blunt ignored both. "We have been asked by the CIA for your help on a case that simply cannot wait. It's simple enough, and you'll be working with a team—"

"Why do they need Alex if they've already got a team?" Jack demanded.

"The FBI discovered that the ward of one of their agents has gone missing after a bus smash-up. They are rather certain he's been kidnapped and would like your help with their search and rescue."

"How do they know he was kidnapped?" Alex asked. "And why do they want my help?"

"The boy's uncle received a message from the kidnappers," Blunt said, disregarding Alex's other question in favor of playing the message.

_"_**_We dOn't tAke wElL to bEIng triCkeD. YoU toOk ouR bEst agEnt, nOw wE haVe yOur nEphEw. YOu knOw wHat wE wAnt, bUt wE'Re nOt paTieNt. You hAve a daY bEfoRe he wAkeS uP aNd wE stArt oUr fuN. OuR aGeNt or yOur nEPheW. ChOoSe wIseLy._**_"_

Alex already knew he'd be forced into taking the case, but he wanted answers first. "Why do they want me?"

"You already have experience dealing with these kidnappers," Mrs. Jones said, interrupting Mr. Blunt's attempt to avoid the question yet again.

Alex blinked at that response. "I do? Wait, you know who the kidnappers are?"

"Yes. This nephew was taken by Scorpia."

And now Alex would _definitely_ take this case.

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

Mrs. Jones walked with Alex down the hall to Mr. Smithers' office. Alex managed to hide his excitement at seeing the gadget maker after more than a year. Smithers had always been the one person in MI6 that Alex liked, if only because he actually tried to help him, even going so far as to bend rules to get Alex gadgets that doubled as weapons (which Blunt still wouldn't allow). Mrs. Jones knocked on the door, and Alex grinned when he heard the jolly man call out, "Come in, come in!"

Alex went inside, Mrs. Jones turning around to head back to her own office. "Hello, Mr. Smithers," Alex greeted as he cautiously sat in the seat offered to him. After all, it was hard to tell what in the room was real and what was a gadget in disguise.

"Alex, my boy!" Smithers exclaimed, his many chins bouncing with his enthusiasm. The man reached out to shake Alex's hand. "It's been too long, Alex, but I assume that's best. Keeping up in school?"

"Yes, sir," Alex replied. And, indeed, his grades had skyrocketed back up to the A's he'd been used to receiving before MI6 had recruited him.

Smithers chuckled. "Come, Alex, no need for such formalities here! Now, I hear you're headed back to America to help the FBI find one of their agents' wards? Doesn't say much for the bureau, does it, that they lost one of their own?"

Alex rolled his eyes at Smithers' sly grin. "Well, if he really _was_ taken by Scorpia, it makes it a bit less of a disappointment."

"Ah, true, true. Now, let me see what I have here for you." Smithers rummaged in his desk for a moment before digging out a few items. "First, we have a wristwatch, similar to the one you wore when infiltrating the snakehead."

"Does this one work?" Alex asked wryly, remembering that the watch's hands hadn't moved on their own. Then, he recalled the missing battery, taken by his turncoat godfather so he couldn't contact MI6.

"It tells time, yes, but more importantly, it can attach a tracker to someone." Smithers pointed out a small black button on the left side of the black clock face. The watch itself was black, with glow-in-the-dark hands and a few yellow buttons around the clock face. The button Smithers pointed out blended in with the rest of the watch, almost invisible. "If you press this button and aim the top of the clock face at your target, a microscopic tracker will fire out and lock on, undetected, to the target. The watch also has a compass that will always point towards the tracker. It will work up to fifty yards, so you'll have to stay fairly close." Smithers handed the watch over, and Alex slid it onto his wrist.

"Next, an MP3 player," Smithers announced, holding up a silver music player with headphones. "This device can shut down security systems by using a special frequency. Press and hold the Stop button to activate the frequency. I also heard that the team you will be working with has a technical analyst who is good at hacking, so I set up a second feature that is activated with another frequency to create an opening for hackers. For that one, press and hold the Forward button. If the hacker is watching for it, they'll be able to get any info they want and send it to you on this." Smithers placed the MP3 on the desk, instead grabbing a black PSP.

"And what would I do with that information?" Alex asked, confused.

"Stay one step ahead. Also, it never hurts to have a second copy." Smithers and Alex shared a grin. "Now, this PSP can also cause power outages. Just plug its charger into any outlet and you'll have an instant blackout."

Alex smiled widely, pocketing the music player, game system, and charger. "Is that all?"

"Not quite." Smithers placed a pair of sneakers on his desk. They looked simple enough, white with blue designs and laces and a black sole. Smithers flipped them over, showing off a spot where the sole was cut out and in its place was—

"Gum?" Alex wondered, eyebrows peaked. "I think you forgot to clean these."

"Not at all, Alex! The gum is actually a listening device. It can be attached to anything—window, door, wall—and you'll be able to hear any and all conversations going on in the room it's attached to. The headphones from the MP3 will transmit the audio. Also, the gum contains enough explosive to tear through a steel wall, and you trigger it by pressing a button on the sneakers." He pointed to the underside of the tongue of the left shoe. "The button here will read your fingerprint so you don't accidentally trigger it. Lastly, the sneakers have a panic button on the heel that you can activate by toeing it with the opposite foot. It'll transmit straight to your partner."

Alex paused in the process of taking the shoes handed to him. "Wait, what partner?"

Smithers blinked at him. "They haven't told you? Well, I suppose it makes sense, they don't usually tell you everything…. Yes, you'll have a partner for this case. I've actually just given him his own gadgets. He'll likely be waiting for you in the lobby."

Alex scowled. "I don't want a partner. I don't _need_ one." In his experience, partners were almost always smug adults who felt he'd either get in the way or get hurt. Plus, his partners tended to not make it through the mission. No, Alex was always better off without a partner.

"Just give him a chance, Alex. You might be surprised."

Alex huffed, but slid on the sneakers and left. He met up with Jack at the elevator, and the two rode it down to the lobby. As they came out into the lobby, Alex heard a voice calling out.

"Hey, Alex!"

He spun, recognizing the voice from his two weeks in SAS training. Standing before him was Ben Daniels, aka Fox, a young man in his twenties with short black hair and a boyish face. The soldier-turned-spy had helped Alex with the snakehead case and had actually been shot while trying to get Alex to a command room so he could deactivate a bomb. Obviously, Ben had recovered well and was back to work.

"Hey, Ben," Alex said, walking over towards him and introducing Jack. "What are you doing here?"

Ben grinned. "Tagging along with you to the States."

Alex hid his surprise well, his eyes barely widening and an eyebrow raising. "So _you're_ my partner…. Alright, well, we've got a plane to catch."

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

Hazy blue eyes blinked open slowly as their owner groaned, reaching a hand up to his sore head. He couldn't remember what had caused him to lose consciousness or where he was, but something told him he didn't want to know. He sat up slowly, one hand covering the matted bump on his head and the other rubbing at his eyes.

The room he was in was dark, and he couldn't make out many details. He was on a small, wooden cot that was attached to the wall. His hand brushed against the wall, feeling stone beneath his fingers. His toes curled into a dirt floor—and his eyes widened as he realized whoever had him had taken his shoes. He quickly searched his pockets, relieved to find they'd left him his iPod, obviously knowing it couldn't let him contact anyone. They hadn't changed his clothes or taken his choker, either, and he was pleased that he still had Yassen's gifts.

He bolted to attention as a faint plodding noise reached his ears and echoed down the halls. It barely covered up a scritching sound that the teen realized was something being dragged.

The footsteps came to a stop, then the steel door was shoved open and something was tossed in. Danny yelped as the thing—no, the _person_—slammed into him. The obviously unconscious body fell to the floor as Danny gasped in the air he'd lost in the sudden contact.

The man in the doorway turned back around, coming further into the room. Danny's body turned on him, not letting him move as the panic flooded in. _This isn't Vlad,_ he told himself harshly, _Vlad's dead, gone. He can't hurt me anymore!_

But this person, whoever he was, could. And that's what Danny's body sensed.

The man squatted in front of Danny. There was just enough light to make out pale hair and gray eyes that bored holes into Danny. The man smirked. "So, the nephew's up!" he exclaimed. "You're a bit early, nephew. But Myrina will be thrilled to know her work can start sooner!" Danny's eyes must've widened, because the man added, "Oh, don't worry, we won't start _now_, seeing as you're likely still a bit concussed. No, we'll start first thing tomorrow." The man's hands went to his thighs as he stood back up. "In the meantime," he continued, moving back to the door, "you two have fun!"

Danny winced when the door slammed shut, but the noise seemed to wake the other up.

The previously unconscious person groaned as they sat up. "Ugh," the teen grumbled, "I bloody _hate_ Scorpia…."

Of course Danny recognized the name as his uncle's former employer, but he shook the thought from his head. "Why are you here?"

The teen, a blond with brown eyes, shrugged, having just noticed Danny. "Got in the way. You?"

"They didn't take well to my uncle quitting." Danny held out a hand. "Danny Fenton."

The other boy glanced at him suspiciously before deciding he was alright and shaking. "Alex. Rider."

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

A/N: Longest chapter ever! Yay! Please accept this as an apology, as I have no clue when the next chapter will be out. I'll try to keep you guys updated as often as possible, but it may be October or so before I get the chance to type up the next chapter. Again, my typing time will be directly linked to how much of my life my Japanese course eats away, so let's just hope I learn my hiragana, katakana, and kanji quickly. Read and review, please!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: So, the good news? Japanese won't kill me! I'm actually picking it up pretty quick, plus my roommate's a Japanese major! XD The bad news? Endo. Endocrinology is _definitely_ going to kill me. Sad thing right now is, I started writing this chapter two weeks ago when our wifi was down, but kept getting sidetracked since then. Sorry, though you'll probably be glad to hear that what's been keeping me sidetracked is finishing up this story. It's gonna be about ten chapters, chapter ten also including an epilogue of sorts. And my roommate and I have been trying to set up our cable, so that's been taking up my time, too. Also, be on the lookout for a one-shot collection called _Falling Is Easy_. It'll be telling the story of Danny's two years on the road before _Red White and Dead_.

Playlist for this chapter: "Under the Knife" by Rise Against, "Bleed Like Me" by Trapt, and "Absolute" by Thousand Foot Krutch.

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

Reid was pacing. He had been for the past five hours since discovering Danny's disappearance. Somehow, he'd managed to down about seven cups of coffee before Morgan noticed and hid the coffee maker.

Of course, Reid wasn't the only one affected by the loss of their youngest member. Hotch was in his office, watching the news feed of the crash and its aftermath over and over. Rossi sat off to one side, elbows on knees and leaning forward. Prentiss and JJ had gone down to see how Garcia was doing. Morgan walked back in after hiding the coffee maker, massaging his temples in frustration.

Yassen Gregorovitch seemed to be the only one _not_ worried. He leaned against a wall, arms crossed as he watched the team panic. At one point, he even checked his watch like he was waiting for someone.

It was a quarter to eleven when three people burst in through the main door. The whole team—sans JJ, Prentiss, and Garcia—turned to stare at the apparent family that had suddenly appeared.

Hotch was the first to approach them, noticing as he did that the teen seemed to be the one in charge. "May I help you?" Hotch didn't ask so much as demand.

The black-haired man reached around the teen to shake Hotch's hand. "Ben Daniels," he announced happily. "Someone requested Alex's help, so here we are!"

Hotch's eyebrow jumped up. "Alex?"

Reid blinked, remembering what Yassen had said earlier. "Alex Rider?"

The blond, brown-eyed teen nodded. "Are you the one who 'requested' I come?"

"Ah, n—no, that was—" Reid paused, glancing around. "W—Where'd he go?"

Alex frowned. "Who?"

Morgan answered as he helped Reid look. "The one who _did_ ask your help." He glanced at Rossi, saying, "Wasn't he just here?"

Rossi shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

Alex rolled his eyes, whispering to Ben, "I suppose this means we're now looking for _two_ missing persons."

Ben snickered, composing himself quickly when he realized Hotch was staring—glaring?—at him. "Ah, well, we were hoping you could tell us a bit more about the situation?"

The group exchanged introductions after Hotch called the women up from Garcia's office, and Jack Starbright, the redhead who'd come in with Alex and Ben, excused herself to go to their hotel.

Alex turned back to the BAU team. "Why were we called in?" he demanded.

There was a moment where the team found themselves wondering if this was what Hotch had been like as a teen, then, a voice came from the hallway. "Scorpia kidnapped my nephew during a car crash. They wish to exchange him for an agent of theirs."

The two MI6 agents spun to face the darkened hallway, unable to see who spoke. Alex cursed under his breath, then called back, "So, we have this agent captured?"

A chuckle echoed out from the dark, followed by footsteps. "No, Alex, not really." Yassen stepped out of the shadows, adding, "After all, I'm supposed to be dead."

The whole room was tense for a moment. Then, Alex moved, suddenly aiming a gun at the former assassin.

The team and Ben blinked, then Ben checked his holster, realizing Alex had taken his gun. The MI6 agent quickly grabbed back his weapon, telling Alex, "_This_ is why Blunt doesn't allow you to carry weapons. Er, well, guns, I mean." He glared at the huffing teen as he holstered the gun.

Alex's arms were crossed as he leveled his own glare at Yassen. "Why are you here?" he bit out.

Yassen smirked, obviously pleased to have thrown the young spy off-balance. "Not going to ask why I'm alive?"

Alex shrugged. "You're a professional assassin and spy. Of course you'd know how to stage your own death. Why are you here?"

"I quit Scorpia by staging my death. They found out. I was coming to America to see my family, and Scorpia attacked my nephew."

Alex frowned. "I thought your parents died in Russia. What do you mean by 'family'?"

"My sister, Madalina. Once I had enough money, after our parents died, I sent her to America. A family there took her in, and she's now known as Maddie Fenton."

This threw both Brits for a loop. "You have a _sister?_" Ben gaped, trying to imagine what the sister of an international assassin must be like. His mental image made him dangerously pale.

"Does she know what you do?" Alex wondered, thinking that if Yassen went to such lengths to keep her from being connected to him, she couldn't have known or heard from him much.

"She knows everything," Yassen replied to Alex's shock, "as do her children, Jazz and Danny. I don't believe she's explained it all to her husband, but he does know she's Russian and has spoken with me."

The BAU team was now also showing their surprise, but Reid, Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss found themselves recovering first. "That's how he lasted twenty months on the streets," Reid commented.

Yassen nodded. "Maddie made sure her children knew how to take care of themselves. They each were taught many forms of martial arts, as well as other necessary skills."

Alex sneered at Yassen. "You had her train them for going into your line of work!" he accused.

Yassen shook his head. "Maddie taught them on her own. She knew that they could be in danger one day just for being related to me. Her lessons came in handy for Danny, or so I've heard." He locked eyes with Reid, and the two nodded.

Alex bristled, unable to trust the man before him. "So, this 'Danny' was trouble to begin with? How do we know he really _was_ kidnapped and didn't just _join_ Scorpia?"

"Because Danny and Jazz _both_ have a far better developed sense of mortality than anyone in the spy business. Jazz is going to college to become a psychiatrist, and Danny always wanted to be an astronaut. Maddie is not forcing them to go into my work, and I am glad for that. But I believe the better question is, where are they holding my nephew?"

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

Danny was pacing. He couldn't help it, there was nothing else to do! His overactive mind kept throwing thoughts and ideas at him, half of which made no sense and the other half were impossible. One such idea that kept cropping up screamed for him to _Just Phase the Hell Out!_ But he couldn't leave the blond here, not when he was in worse shape than Danny himself.

That was part of the reason Danny had begun to pace. The man from before had come back, grabbing Alex and dragging him away, Alex kicking and screaming. Before leaving the room, though, the man—a platinum blond, Danny realized—glanced back, grinning, at him.

"Your turn will be next, nephew," he'd stated, then he and Alex were gone, the heavy door slamming shut behind them.

That had been about an hour ago, and Danny had found out quickly that the door and walls of his cell did little to block out the sound of Alex screaming. He'd actually plugged his iPod headphones into his ears, blaring the music to drown out the shrieks from down the hall, but it wasn't doing much besides destroying his eardrums. He simply continued to pace, wondering idly for a moment whether Reid might've (for the millionth time) been right when he said Danny's ADHD was coming back with a vengeance.

Danny shook his head. This wasn't the time to be thinking about that. He needed to find a way out before—

If Danny had been listening, he would've heard the screams stop. He would've heard the door opening. He would've heard someone walk in, boots clunking against the ground. Instead, Danny was oblivious until the shadow spread over him.

He glanced up, seeing a flash of red hair before everything went dark.

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

Alex sat off to one side, still annoyed at being forced to work with Yassen Gregorovich, who, apparently, _never really died._ Over the past year of no missions, Alex had often found himself wondering about the Russian. The most prominent thought was always why did Yassen send him to Scorpia, but the relationship between Yassen and Alex's own father was a close second.

Yassen had told Alex that he loved John Rider and that that love was extended to Alex himself. At the time, Alex was utterly confused by this confession, but after a year of contemplating it, Alex decided Yassen was probably playing him, trying to trick him into doing something stupid like contacting Scorpia—which he had. While Scorpia taught him skills MI6 never would have, they still used him (like every other intelligence agency) and were ready and willing to kill him once his job was done. He'd shut down their project, though, saving thousands, maybe millions, of lives and in exchange got shot.

He scowled, remembering his near-miss at death. But then he looked across the room and noticed Yassen pacing and slowly dialing a number into his cell phone. For a moment, all ill-thought was forgotten as Alex watched the unshakeable Yassen _worry_ over a _phone call_.

Curiosity peaked, Alex snuck behind a few desks to be in hearing range. Something was bothering him, but he pushed the thought away.

"Yes, it's about Daniil." Alex's brow furrowed at the name before realizing that must be Danny's full name. "They want me to pick him up from work."

It was a code, Alex knew. Admittedly, a fairly simple one, but a code just the same. Alex crept a bit closer as Yassen resumed his pacing.

"They want to know when I'll be back in," Yassen continued. "My letter of resignation has gone ignored, it seems." There was a long pause, then, "An old friend dropped by. He has some ideas about how they could run shop a bit better."

That was a little more complex a code, but Alex quickly figured out that Yassen was speaking of him.

"Tell Sam that I'll let her know when Danny turns his phone back on. He's forgotten to charge it this week."

That last threw Alex, but only until he realized that Yassen had dropped the code. Well, other than the charging thing, but most of the last exchange was honest.

"I'll speak to you again soon, _lyubimo_." Yassen added something in a low, smooth voice which Alex realized must be Russian. Then, he hung up and tilted his head before turning to face Alex's hiding spot. "You can come out now, Alex."

Alex fought down a blush and crawled out of his cover. He stood, unrepentant, before Yassen. "You spoke English on purpose, so I knew what you were talking about," he accused. This was the thought he'd pushed away before, after hearing whom Yassen was speaking to. "She knows Russian, and I doubt anyone here knows it."

"Emily Prentiss does," Yassen replied, "but, yes, I wanted you to hear. My sister is worried to death about Danny."

"You called him Daniil. Why?" Alex's curiosity was definitely getting the better of him today.

"Daniil is his given name. Jack named Jazmine, so Maddie named Danny. Most just assume his full name is Daniel, or that there was some spelling mistake on the roster." Yassen smiled sadly for a moment before his stoic mask fell back into place. "His best friends don't even know his real name, or where his mother is from. They do know she was adopted, though."

Alex studied Yassen's face. He took in the man's stance, noticing how he was tense, more tense than he'd ever seen the usually relaxed man. And where Yassen normally would be leaning casually against a wall, he was stiff-backed, unsupported by anything other than his own two feet. He'd even been pacing before the call. "You're worried," Alex murmured, knowing without any confirmation that he was right. "You're actually nervous about this."

"He is my nephew," Yassen stated, "and I know what these people are capable of. After all, I trained many of them." He glanced sideways at Alex. "You know what they've learned, too."

Alex stared at the floor. The two stood in silence for a long moment, ignoring the agents rushing around them. Finally, Alex looked back up, meeting Yassen's gaze. "How do we find him?"

Yassen smirked. "It's about time you asked."

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

Danny was thrown roughly back into the cell, crashing against the far wall. He groaned as the movement pulled at the cuts and bruises he'd gained in the past few hours.

Alex was sitting in the corner farthest from the door, watching in silence as Danny rolled, trying to find the strength and leverage to push himself up. As the door slammed shut, Alex stood, moving to help Danny onto the cot. The raven-haired boy moaned, hugging his stomach as more red seeped slowly into his already bloodstained shirt.

"Pull your shirt up," Alex ordered. "We need to see if we can stop the bleeding."

Danny shook his head, pain stabbing through his temple from the concussion he'd received in the crash. "It'll… stop," he gasped. "It'll… stop on its… own."

Alex frowned. "What's wrong with you? Those cuts could get infected if you leave them be!" He tugged at the bottom of Danny's shirt, the other boy unable to fight Alex off.

The blond gaped as he read the words carved into Danny's chest. They obviously didn't start there, seeing as the first phrase made no sense alone. Alex could see the scar tissue on either side of each cut, proving that these words had been there and healed _before_ Danny had been taken by Scorpia. Someone—and Alex had a pretty good idea who—had sliced them open again.

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

Danny squeezed his eyes shut tight against Alex's piercing gaze. He knew what had caught the blond's attention.

_When he'd come to earlier, he found that he couldn't move. His hands were fastened down above his head, and he couldn't feel his legs below his knees. A quick glance towards his feet showed why his legs went numb. The lower half of the table he'd been placed on was elevated so no blood flowed to his feet, probably to keep him from running if he somehow got out of the cuffs. He spent the five minutes of waiting for his captor to come in by studying the room he'd woken in._

_He was facing the far wall, the door behind him, out of view. The whole room was extremely sterile, which confused Danny. He'd been expecting something closer to a dungeon than a hospital based on the cell he'd been locked in. There was a specialized fridge in one corner, filled with small jars and beakers. On the other side of that wall, he could see a sheet pan with various medical instruments, laid out on a counter. Scalpels and needles lay next to a stethoscope, light, and blood pressure cuff._

_Danny fooled himself for a moment, thinking he might be in a hospital after the crash and the whole being-locked-in-a-cell-with-a-blond-equally-locked-up-teen thing was just a nightmare brought about due to his concussion. Then he felt the metal restraints digging into his wrists and remembered that most hospitals don't lock up a patient._

_It was then that he heard the door behind him open. There were a few thunking footsteps, then the red hair he'd seen before passing out was swinging into view. He turned his head to glance at the gray-eyed woman before him. She smirked down at him, lips pulled away from teeth that had been filed into points. "You woke up early," she spoke quietly, but something in her voice made Danny shiver involuntarily. "Now I have to change my schedule." Her smirk flipped into a scowl as she reached over and grabbed something from the sheet pan. "_**_I don't _****_like_****_ changing my schedule_**_."_

_Something slammed down right below Danny's knee, and he jerked before realizing it was a reflex hammer. The woman had just used so much force, he was surprised the hammer hadn't gotten lodged in his leg. His knee throbbed, having been pushed uncomfortably up when the hammer had hit. Danny bit back tears, but he did hiss in pain._

_The woman grinned, showing off the fangs she'd made out of her teeth. "You and I, we're going to have some_**_ fun_**_. I _**_really_**_ hope your uncle doesn't come for a while. After all, Alex is amusing, but knowing Yassen is worrying over you somewhere… that makes it _**_so much_****_better_**_."_

_This time, the hammer fell on his right arm, and he shrieked, almost drowning out the sound of the bone fracturing. He felt the pain screaming down his arm, the forced position of his arms over his head becoming even more awkward and uncomfortable thanks to his new injury._

_Those gray eyes blinked at him before sparkling mischievously. "You've broken that arm before," she murmured, "haven't you, Danny?"_

_He flinched away, not responding. The hammer flashed out again, this time catching him in the side, right between two ribs. He grunted, barely able to draw in air._

_The redhead huffed, rummaging through the items on the sheet pan again. Danny had a split second debate, trying to decide whether or not to phase away—but remembering that he wasn't the only one trapped here. He couldn't leave Alex here with these—these monsters, so he wasn't going to leave until he could bring the blond along._

_With that decided, he focused his attention again on the woman—and realized she was staring down at his chest. She had pulled up his shirt, revealing the scarred words Vlad had left him. Her head tilted, the red locks falling to one side before she brushed them out of her face and glanced back at Danny's. "You've been broken before," she whispered, but her voice seemed too loud to Danny, who could feel the panic welling up inside of him. There was a long, quiet moment before she stood up and grabbed a scalpel from the sheet pan, saying, "It's always easier to break a bone twice. I wonder…." She lowered the blade to his chest, the tip brushing against the scar of the first letter. "How long did it take for you to be broken before?"_

_Danny hissed in a breath as the scalpel easily sliced into his flesh, the woman carefully tracing over the letters._

_"How long, Danny, before this other person broke you?"_

_The knife dug in deeply, deeper than Vlad's had in the first place, and Danny cried out._

_Her fangs flashed once more in an awful mockery of a smile. "Let's see how fast you'll break again."_

Danny's eyes burst open, he moaning as Alex checked him for any other wounds and went over his bruising ribs.

"Sorry," Alex muttered.

"'Sfine," Danny mumbled back. "Who… who _was_ she?"

"Myrina Drake," the blond replied simply. "Her brother Samael's the one who tossed me in here last night."

Danny nodded, storing that information for later. "Are you… okay?" he managed, still unable to get much air.

"'Mfine," Alex grumbled. "I'm more worried about you, really. You were bleeding a lot. Did she hurt you anywhere else?"

"Ribs, knee, and… arm, all… on… the right side." Danny hissed as he forced himself into a sitting position. "The… bleeding'll… stop soon. I… heal quick."

Alex leveled a stern, skeptical look at Danny. "I'll believe that when I see it."

They settled into a semi-comfortable silence for a few moments, then Alex sighed. "We've got to find a way out of here," he grumbled. "They took all my gadgets, and I can't find any weaknesses in the walls or floor. I can't even _check_ the ceiling since it's too bloody high…." Alex flopped back, glaring up at said ceiling.

Danny bit his lip, thinking for a moment whether he actually should say anything. Finally, he glanced over at Alex. "What if… if I said… I could get us… out of here?"

Alex pushed himself back up, staring at Danny. "...How?"

"I… can phase… through stuff." When Alex scoffed at that, Danny shoved his hand through the wall. That earned him wide eyes and Alex's full attention. "I'm half-ghost. We can… get outta here… using my powers, and… they'll never know."

Alex turned the idea over in his mind, slowly nodding. "Okay, yeah. But we'll have to wait for morning." He cut off Danny's protest, stating, "You're still hurt, and you'll need to heal some if you're going to get us out."

"I told you, I'll… heal fast!"

"I know. But we'll just wait until the bleeding stops, alright?"

Danny scowled, but nodded, knowing Alex had a point. After all, it wouldn't help them escape if they left a trail of blood.

Alex grinned at him. "Good. Now, you get some sleep, and I'll wake you when the bleeding's stopped."

"Fine. But… wake me _as soon as_… it stops, okay? I don't… wanna be here… any longer than I… have to." Danny lowered himself slowly down to lie on the cot once more, hissing when the movement pulled at the cuts and his ribs. Once his head met the cot, his eyes fluttered closed, drifting off easily and completely missing the twisted smirk on Alex's face.

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The blond tapped cautiously at the door, glancing back at the blue-eyed boy to make sure he didn't wake up. Luckily, he didn't, and the door swung open, Samael Drake quickly tugging the teen along with him.

They quickly reached another door, and Samael threw it open, shoving the teen into a chair before moving to sit next to his distracted sister. He pulled the needle from her hands and directed her attention to their guest.

"What did you find out?" Samael asked.

The teen grinned, but it couldn't be described as happy so much as insane. "He has a plan for us to break out," he stated. "He trusts me, more than we thought. It's possible his uncle told him to look for Alex Rider." The boy grimaced in disgust as he spoke the name. "He's told me how we can escape."

"How?"

"He's _half-ghost_. He proved it to me by putting his hand through one of the walls."

A smirk slowly spread across Myrina's face. "That's just perfect for us, then, isn't it?" she purred. "Especially with the, ah, _gift_ that we received last year from that billionaire-turned-mayor."

The two men frowned, brows furrowing before they caught on. Samael grinned. "Yes, it will be, won't it?" He turned to the boy. "We'll need you in on this, Julius. The nephew trusts you, and we can use that trust to break him further."

The blond gave a smile that looked more like he was baring his teeth. "Leave it to me. This guy's _way_ too gullible. I'll make sure he never trusts me—oh, I mean _Alex_—again."

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A/N: So, that "time skip" where Alex ends up captured already? It's making a lot more sense now, isn't it? Sorry about that, but let's face it, Scorpia would probably love the chance to use Julius to screw with someone's mind, especially if it would get back at one or more of their enemies, in this case Yassen and Alex. Anywayz, I'd best get back to Endocrinology (ick!), so read and review, please!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Okay, so chapter ten/the epilogue is taking a lot longer than I'd expected (and by that, I mean it's gonna be about twenty written pages, almost twice the length of each chapter), so you guys get another chapter even though I swore not to update until it was fully written. Lucky you guys! Plus, this is in celebration of being done midterms.

Playlist for this chapter: "Into the Nothing" and "Lights Out" by Breaking Benjamin and "Breathing Slowly" by Crossfade.

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Jack Starbright had all but ordered Alex and Ben to get to the hotel and sleep some. The two spies had protested, but in the end, the American had won, especially when Garcia joined in to demand the same of the BAU team. The group split up, each heading for their homes, Reid, Hotch, Rossi, and Yassen being the last to leave.

Rossi frowned at the ex-assassin. "I don't think it would be best for you to be on your own," he declared, crossing his arms and staring down the Russian.

Yassen's head tilted slightly, merely acknowledging the older man, but not replying.

Hotch stepped in. "Maybe you should stay with one of us."

Pale blue eyes flicked to Hotch, Yassen giving him a calculating glance. He'd known that the team wouldn't trust him once they knew who he was, but he'd hoped they might understand that he just wanted to get Danny back. He had already gone two years without a single job, and he'd even started looking into new careers, determined to leave his old life behind so he could spend more time with his sister and her family.

"He can stay with me."

All three men blinked at the genius' outburst. "Reid, are you sure—?"

"It's fine, Hotch," Reid said calmly. "Besides, Danny's only told me anything about him. I've got a bit of a different perspective."

Hotch glanced between Reid and Yassen for a moment before nodding sharply. "Stay safe," he ordered, then turned and left, Rossi following.

Before they'd gotten too far, Rossi turned around and called back, "You do _anything_ to him, and you'll find out how your victims felt!"

With the two gone, Reid and Yassen shared a glance, each just taking a moment to study the other. Finally, Yassen gave a slight grin. "So, I'll be seeing where Daniil was staying, then?"

Reid nodded. "That's his full name, isn't it?" Reid chuckled humorlessly. "We all thought it was Daniel." He led the ex-assassin to his car and got in.

"Most do."

They travelled in silence for a while, then Yassen glanced over at Reid. "We will find him."

Reid jerked, accidentally swerving the car a bit. "S—Sorry, sorry," he mumbled as several cars honked at them. He looked over at Yassen, taking in his serious expression, then sighed. "I know. Danny's a tough kid, and he knows we're looking for him. I'm just worried about how this will set him back…."

"Set him back how?" Yassen's eyes had hardened.

Reid glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, turning back to the road and gulping nervously. "W—Well, Danny wanted to tell you himself…."

"This is about what you helped him with two months ago."

"Yes."

Yassen fell silent, mulling over that information. They'd reached and entered Reid's house before Yassen spoke again.

"I need to know what happened to Daniil."

Reid stumbled over his response. "I—I know, b—but Danny—I shouldn't—" But Yassen was dead set on it, eyes unwavering and unblinking and lips drawn into a thin line. Reid sighed in defeat. "Tomorrow," he said, "I'll tell you tomorrow. For now, we need to get some rest."

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"Hey."

The voice floated to him, drifting through the air and flowing in then out of his head. He could feel the pain rear up again, connected to the voice. He pulled away, knowing the pain would come back if he followed the voice.

"Hey, Danny," the voice called out again. It was louder this time, more insistent. The pain was doubling, but he couldn't fall back into the black numbness.

"Danny, come on," the voice urged, joined by a hand nudging his shoulder.

His eyelids fluttered, then opened blearily, his gaze still too cloudy for him to see clearly.

"There we go!" Now he recognized the voice as Alex's. "C'mon, Danny, we're breaking out of here today, remember?"

For a moment, Danny had no idea what Alex was talking about, but then the plan from last night clicked in his head. He nodded, sitting up slowly and wincing when he had to put weight on his right arm. "L—Let's," he started, before coughing and trying to get the strength back in his voice. When he spoke again, it lacked the previous croaky quality. "Let's do this."

Alex grinned widely. "Come on, then! I can lead us out if you can do your phasing thing."

The two walked over to a wall, and Alex motioned for Danny to take them through. They came out into a dark hallway, and Alex quickly tugged Danny along, nodding or pointing at which walls they had to pass.

It was going along so smoothly until they reached the exit. Just as they were about to throw the door open, an alarm went off, and a steel gate dropped down, blocking their one way out.

"_Dammit_," Alex hissed, spinning around and dragging Danny down the hall.

"W—What's—?" Danny stumbled, unable to keep his feet under him as he was pulled along. "What's going on, Alex?"

Another gate slammed down right in front of them. Alex cursed again, louder, and turned back, only to be stopped by a third gate. "Dammit." He spun to Danny, demanding, "_Get us _**_out_**_ of here!_"

Danny took a moment to register what had been said, then nodded, turning intangible before grabbing onto Alex and aiming for the wall—

Which zapped him as glowing red energy suddenly flew through it. Danny and Alex fell to the floor, Danny panting and shaking from the electricity still coursing through him, but Alex jumped back up, pulling Danny up with him and shoving him into the gate.

Danny screamed, struggling to break away. "W—What the—the h—_hell_, Alex?" he yelled, squirming and kicking back to try to knock Alex off of him.

Then the footsteps came again, clunking in front of them and plodding behind, and Danny knew the Drakes had come. He was pushed further into the gate as Alex called out, "I _told_ you! See? He tried to escape and take me with him!"

Danny sputtered, not having expected Alex to turn on him. But before he could say anything, Myrina reached between the bars and grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet her eyes.

She glanced momentarily over at Alex, merely saying, "Good job," before staring back down at Danny. Her mouth slowly pulled into a smirk, and she pressed something on the wall that made the gate break apart and vanish. She tugged Danny along behind her, calling back to Samael, "Take care of Alex, will you?" Her smirk turned feral. "I have to show Danny here what happens when one tries to get away from us."

The last thing Danny saw before being dragged around the corner was Samael opening the exit and letting Alex walk out.

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Reid and Yassen got in to the BAU's office around nine. This was mostly due to the two sleeping in accidentally. Of course, Yassen had blamed himself for getting used to sleeping in after two years out of work. But as they went inside, they realized that the rest of the team and the three visitors from Britain were just arriving as well.

Hotch and Rossi both watched Reid closely as he came in, checking for any sign of duress that might prove Yassen hadn't quite given up his less-than-legal ways. However, they had to grudgingly admit that nothing had happened.

Instead, once they were all gathered, Yassen turned to Reid. "You said you'd tell me today what happened when you all met Danny."

Reid blinked, then nodded. "Y—Yeah, I did, didn't I?" He sat down, gathering his thoughts, before starting. "About two months ago, I ran across the alley Danny was staying in at the time. He told me he'd been locked out while his parents were gone for the week, so I offered to let him stay with me. Then, we got the case."

Morgan picked up. "He started acting really suspicious, but there was no way for us to tie him to it. There was just a trail of bodies stretching across the country. Frankly, I doubt we even found them all, but we saw enough."

"It was the same three people dying," Rossi added. "But the first body here was a different person. It also was a regretful killing."

"Maddie," Yassen mumbled. At the team's surprised looks, he stated, "Danny told me about Vlad's obsession. He also mentioned that Vlad had made clones of him, but only one survived. Obviously, he fixed that flaw enough for his plans to work."

Reid nodded. "It took us a lot longer to even realize they were clones, let alone who was behind it. But Masters guilted Danny into coming to him." When he saw the confusion on the Brits' faces, he added, "He threatened to blow up a day-care if Danny didn't meet with him."

"That's when he killed a clone of Sam. Of course, he made it seem like she was the real one by not having put a serial number on her neck. Danny was devastated, but he took off again rather than help us."

"But Masters found him," Prentiss sighed. "Danny was in bad shape when we got there, and Masters attacked him again at the hospital."

"After that, we finally had enough to go after Masters, but no idea how to actually subdue him," Hotch stated. "We couldn't even find out from Danny what would affect Masters since Danny was barely lucid."

"Wait," Ben interrupted. All three from Britain were lost. "What do you mean 'what would _affect_ Masters?' You lot have guns; you could've just shot him!"

The team and Yassen all shook their heads. "It's not that easy," Reid explained. "See, Masters—and Danny, too—is half-ghost. We needed specialized weapons to be able to affect him."

"Like this." As he spoke, Yassen pulled out a silver gun with green designs. He placed it on the desk before him while the FBI team and Ben reholstered the weapons they'd pulled on instinct. "Maddie made this for me specifically. I have an ecto-modified Remington M24-A3 at home."

Reid blinked rapidly at this information. "Um, r—right." Then he shook his head to clear his thoughts. "S—So, we needed specialized weapons to take down Masters, and we had no way to get them.

"Until Danielle and Valerie showed up. They'd been following Masters and Danny for nearly two years, waiting for Masters to slip up. Once we filled them in on what we knew, they gave us the weaponry necessary to take down Masters. Garcia located the warehouse where Masters was keeping his hostages and clones, and we headed over there."

"But not before Danny staged his own death," Rossi continued.

"Must run in the family," Alex grumbled, eyes flickering over at Yassen.

Yassen ignored the jab. "Then?"

"We broke into the warehouse and fought off the guards. Meanwhile, Danny went after Masters. By the time Hotch, Morgan, and Reid got there, Masters was aiming a killing shot at Danny. But all four hit him first, and he was dead on impact. Then we freed the hostages and got out just before the place blew, taking the clones with it."

Jack had a hand to her mouth but moved it to gasp out, "Was Danny alright after all that? It must've been awful, to go through so much." She glanced at Alex, adding, "For so long."

"He's been dealing with it," Reid replied simply. "We've been helping as much as we can, and he's been keeping in touch with his family. He's just… adjusting."

Yassen stood, stating, "And this will set him back again." He looked over at Reid, saying, "We'll have a lot of work to do to help him recover from this."

Alex chose that moment to speak up. "Tell them your plan."

Everyone's attention turned to Yassen. "They'll have to make the first move," he began. "We have to wait for them to call again and trace it. They'll be nearby, probably within two hours' driving distance, and somewhere that's hard to drive to, possibly in the woods."

JJ nodded, saying, "I'll get Garcia ready," before leaving to do just that.

"From there, it's a matter of tracking the caller back to his base. Alex has a gadget for that, so he and Ben can follow the caller. Once they find the base, we can regroup to plan our attack."

Here, Alex took over. "I'll break in and get as much information as I can. I'll also open up the computers to a hack from your technical analyst. After that, I'll locate and break out Danny, and we'll meet back up with Yassen and Ben."

Morgan nodded. "Sounds simple enough."

"One can only hope it _stays_ that simple," Alex muttered.

They went over the plan a few more times, hammering out details. Before they knew it, it was late afternoon, and Reid was getting fidgety.

Morgan was the first to notice. "Hey, Pretty Boy," he called, "what's wrong?"

"They haven't gotten back in touch with us," Reid mumbled. "I—I just thought, they'd want to keep in contact, right? Since they want Yassen back?"

The whole group blinked at that, but Yassen was the first to recover. "They would," he replied. "So that begs the question—"

"Um, guys?"

Everyone turned to face Garcia and JJ, who had run up from her office. Both were breathing heavily, panicked.

"What is it, Garcia?" Hotch demanded, not as harsh as usual due to their obvious anxiety.

"Th—They sent us a video. It's of Danny, and it's not good."

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Danny coughed and sputtered, pulling in as much air as he could. He was shivering, even in his long sleeves, and soaked through.

Myrina just giggled at seeing him like that, struggling to warm up and breathe after having been dunked several times into a tub of freezing water. It had been almost an hour since Alex had given him up to the Drakes, and Myrina had spent it testing how long Danny could hold his breath. His record seemed to be ten minutes, thanks to his ghost powers, but the siblings somehow had modified the building to drain his ecto energy. His powers were weakening, and he knew he wouldn't last long without them.

Samael chose that moment to come in. He grinned at his sister. "Having fun, Myrina?"

She pouted, crossing her arms. "No, he's getting boring," she whined. "He refuses to react to anything!" She stomped her foot and huffed. "It's not fair! Yesterday he was screaming so nice but today…."

Her brother pursed his lips. "Hmm, that could make things a bit difficult…. We're supposed to prove we're serious today…." He rubbed at his chin for a moment, then snapped his fingers. "I've got it!"

Myrina blinked questioningly at him.

"Go grab a camera. I'll meet you in The Room."

There was a moment where Myrina just stared, then a slow, feral smile spread across her face, and she skipped off.

Samael turned back to Danny, taking in his wet, shivering, silent form. He paced around the room, studying the boy from every angle before stopping directly in front of him and smiling again. "We've got something special planned for you, nephew. See, we have to prove to Yassen that we're not going to back out of our deal. Since he hasn't come yet, we have to show him that his delay is causing you to suffer." The man leaned down to meet Danny eye to eye. "Are you suffering, nephew? Because if you're not, we'll have to fix that when we're on camera." He stood back up, oblivious to Danny's glare. "I have a few ideas to do that, you know. But so does my sister." He moved over towards the fridge Danny had seen last time he was in that room, opening the door and pulling out a small, stoppered bottle. He tapped the side a couple times, watching as the liquid inside shifted and caught the light. With a short glance at the teen, Samael smirked, went to the sheet pan, and picked up a long, large needle.

Danny backed away from the man, instincts screaming at him that whatever was in that bottle was _not good_ and he needed to get away. However, all that came from his escape attempt was annoyance and slight pain when he ran into the ectoshielded wall.

Samael chuckled. "Trying to run away, nephew? It won't work, you know. We spent all night setting up ectoshields and replacing our usual tools with the ecto-modified ones that one of our clients gave us. You might know him, actually. He needed some supplies about two years ago in order to make some clones."

Danny hissed in a breath, immediately knowing who their client was. Then he mentally hit himself as he remembered the glowing red of the walls. It should've been _obvious_ that it was of Vlad's making, all of his ecto weapons were red! Even _dead_, Vlad was still making his life difficult!

The male ignored Danny's small freak out in favor of plunging the needle into the bottle, drawing up some of the liquid before pulling the syringe back out. He set the bottle back in the fridge, then turned to face the teen again. "See, you've already spent some time with my sister, nephew, but now it's _my_ turn to show you my work." He squatted in front of Danny, the needle held just out of reach as he squeezed out the little bit of air caught in its tip. "Myrina focuses on physical abuse, you see. She likes cutting and beating and whipping people, but me? See, I focus on the things that _don't_ leave marks. Well, usually. Sometimes a small shot can help my plans along, though." He waved the syringe at Danny. "But I mostly worry about how to cause _mental_ suffering. The human mind is a fragile thing, nephew, and most don't stop to think about how easy it is to tip someone from sane to insane. Happy to suicidal. Whole to broken." A vile smirk pulled at the man's lips. "Myrina said you were broken once before. We want to see which of us will break you again."

Danny tried, he really did. As Samael came at him with the needle, he used the last bit of his available ecto energy to go intangible. He dove through a cabinet and came out next to a non-glowing wall, but the second he tried to push through it, the ecto-electricity burst into life, forcing him back as the electricity coursed through him, taking the last of his ghost energy with it. He groaned as he lay there, unable to muster up the strength to move.

Samael laughed at him. "These walls work even better than Masters said!" Then he sobered. "But running away is not a smart thing to do, nephew. We aren't patient people, my sister and I, and we hold your life in our hands. It'll be easier on you, nephew, if you _don't piss us off._" The needle jabbed into Danny's arm, and he cried out, not expecting the sudden pain, the fire as the liquid flew through his veins, blending into the blood-ectoplasm mix that already flowed throughout his body.

"That was quinuclidinyl benzilate," Samael explained. "In most people, it can last up to a week, but Masters warned us about your drug resistance. This version will last three days in you. That's three days of restlessness, nausea, maybe even hallucinations. Three days where you won't be able to tell reality from dreams. And you will be spending those three days in the pound."

Danny froze at that word. The world just stopped once he heard it. For a moment, he was back, with mind-numbing clarity, in the alley, listening to Vlad tell him he was worthless, no better than a stray.

_"...wanted dogs get neutered,"_ that hated voice echoed back to him, and he saw the flash of that blade again. _"Maybe…. Maybe they'd want you if you were neutered, too…."_

Then the scene faded, replaced instantly by Vlad's room in the warehouse. His head throbbed. _"You're still unwanted. And you know what happens to unwanted strays in the pound, don't you?"_

Danny screamed, writhing on the ground even as Samael dragged him away and down the hall to a dark, windowless room.

Myrina stood at the door, her smile widening as she heard Danny's shrieks. "The camera and chair are ready, brother," she stated happily. "I've even got the cuffs to keep him in place."

"And the earplugs?"

"And duct tape!"

The siblings grinned at each other before taking Danny inside and placing him on a chair covered in small spikes. Danny hissed on contact with the tiny needles, then cried out as his hands were fastened down to the arms and the same was happening to his ankles at the legs of the chair. Then, the room went quiet as something was stuffed into his mouth, which was then duct taped shut. There was a quiet 'Beep' from in front of him, but before he could look to see what made the noise, a blindfold was wrapped around his head.

He sensed more than heard someone squat in front of him. "I hope you have fun in here, nephew," Samael hissed at him. "I know _we_ will. And your uncle will be watching, too."

"Wave for the camera, Danny," Myrina cackled from a corner. "Oh, wait, sorry, you _can't!_"

"You'll have three days in here, nephew, but something tells me you won't be able to focus on the time. You'll probably be more worried about keeping that fragile mind of yours balanced." Something was shoved into his left ear, and he winced at the pain before it was covered in more cloth and duct tape. "_See you in three days,_" was hissed into his other ear before it was given the same treatment.

The world went silent, dark, empty. He didn't hear the siblings telling the camera what they'd done or the door slamming shut behind them as they left. He couldn't even hear his own muffled whimper as he felt the small nails dig into his skin as he fidgeted, unable to remain still due to the drug he'd been given.

Instead, all he could hear were the remembered words Vlad had spat at him when last they met.

_"And you know what happens to unwanted strays in the pound, don't you?_

_"They are _**_put to sleep_**_."_

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A/N: Well, those two are pleasant. Also, quinuclidinyl benzilate is a real drug, and as far as my research showed, does have those effects. Those who've seen NUMB3RS might remember it. In other news, though I try to get new chapters out as quick as possible, the sad fact is, I really don't know if I'll be able to update again this semester. About half my classes really don't agree with me, and it's gonna take a lot of work to avoid having to retake them, so unfortunately typing up new chapters has to be put on the back burner for the rest of this semester. I'm still writing any time I get the chance, but typing chapters up takes a bit more time than I can safely allot to fanfiction. Sorry. I can really only guarantee updates around holidays, so you might not hear from me again until Thanksgiving or even Christmas, but this story WILL BE FINISHED. It's just gonna take some time. Thanks for understanding. Please review?


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I live. Sorta. Endo is definitely gonna kill me, need be I'll take it over the summer, but it all depends on me doing ten essays in the next three or four days. -.-' I am going to die. So, since I'm awesome and wanted you lot to have something to hold you over until my exams are done, I'm taking some time to punch out another chapter. Lucky you guys! And if anyone out there knows ANYTHING about hormones, help?

Also, if anyone hasn't read _Red,__White,__and__Dead_, there are parts in this that may not make sense/may spoil the ending. Probably should've put this warning last chapter. Oops.

Playlist for this chapter: Breaking Benjamin's "Blow Me Away," Evanescence's "Imaginary," and The Used's "The Bird and the Worm."

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It took five minutes for all eleven of the rescue team to crowd into Garcia's office. Another three minutes were spent calming Garcia down enough to get her to rewind the tape, which took up another minute and a half.

When she hit play, the screen went black. Within a moment, a green-tinted image appeared.

"Night vision," Morgan muttered. Hotch, Rossi, Yassen, Alex, and Ben nodded in agreement with the statement, then studied the visual once more.

Someone was sitting in a chair, but they seemed unable to sit still. Two others were standing nearby, one—a woman—leaning against a wall and the other—a man—right next to the figure in the chair, tying a piece of dark cloth around the sitting one's eyes.

Yassen tapped the screen. "The cloth is duct taped so there is no chance to see through. They have duct taped his mouth, as well."

Reid was the next to make the connection. "Oh, God… _Danny__…__._"

Alex watched more closely, murmuring, "So _that__'__s_ Danny…."

The image shifted as the man squatted before Danny. Then the woman exclaimed, _"__Wave __for __the __camera, __Danny! __Oh, __wait, __sorry, __you __**can**__**'**__**t!**__"_

"He's tied down to the chair," Jack gasped, covering her mouth with a hand and using the other to latch onto Alex's shoulder.

"_You__'__ll __have __three __days __in __here, __nephew,__"_ the man stated, _"__but __something __tells __me __you __won__'__t __be __able __to __focus __on __the __time. __You__'__ll __probably __be __more __worried __about __keeping __that __fragile __mind __of __yours __balanced.__"_

They could only watch as the man stuffed something into Danny's ear, covering it in cloth and duct tape before doing the same to the other ear.

The two unrestrained people moved in front of the camera. _"__Hello, __Yassen,__"_ the man began, grinning. A fanged smirk was flashed at the camera by his companion. _"__As __you __can __see, __we__'__re __following __through __with __our __end __of __the __deal. __Your __nephew __is __suffering __while __you __sit __back __and __twiddle __your __thumbs.__"_

"_He__'__s __a __fun __one, __Yassen,__"_ the woman giggled. _"__I __see __why __you__'__ve __been __keeping __him __a __secret!__"_

One of Yassen's fists clenched tight, cracking the desk he was leaning on.

"_You have three days until the nephew here will be let out from this room. Until then, he'll just have to sit in the darkness."_

"_With all those spikes biting into him."_

"_Ah, yes, that's right. We gave the nephew a nice chair that my sister found. It's from the medieval era. I'm sure he'll appreciate it all the more with these ectoshields zapping away his ghost powers. Odd, isn't it, how **quickly** power can fade?"_

"_Tell them what you did, brother!"_

"_Right. I gave the nephew a little something to make his stay a bit more… **interesting.** He isn't too fond of needles, though, is he?"_

"_Or __knives.__" _The woman was smirking again.

"_But __I __think __he__'__ll __find __everything __all __the __more __fun __once __that __quinuclidinyl __benzilate __starts __circulating, __don__'__t __you?__"_ The man waved the woman out of the frame, then smiled at the camera. _"__Have __a __good __time __watching __him __stew, __Yassen. __You __have __three __days __to __return __to __us, __but __I __suppose __the __real __question __is__—"_ He moved off-camera, allowing the image of Danny, bound, blindfolded, and gagged, to take up the whole screen. _"__Will __he __make __it __three __days?__"_

Footsteps could be heard vaguely, but everyone was focusing more on Danny as he shivered, twitching almost violently in his restraints and inadvertently pressing himself further into the spikes before the screen went black again.

Garcia turned to the team. "That's all we've got, sir."

Hotch glanced at Yassen. "Who were they?" he demanded.

"Myrina and Samael," the ex-assassin replied. "Siblings. The Drakes. She causes physical harm while her brother focuses on breaking the victim psychologically. Both are insane."

"No kidding," Prentiss deadpanned.

Alex rolled his eyes, declaring, "So is every other villain."

Yassen pursed his lips for a moment, knowing Alex included him in that statement.

"What's the drug he mentioned?" Rossi asked, changing the subject quickly. "Quino—?"

"Quinuclidinyl benzilate," Reid stated immediately. "It's a muscarinic receptor antagonist. It can cause restlessness, dizziness, nausea, vomiting, and hallucinations."

The two Brits (and their American friend) blinked at the genius, obviously shocked by the textbook response.

Reid blushed, trying to stutter out an explanation for knowing all that.

Morgan rolled his eyes, effectively shutting Reid up as he said, "So, how do we find them?"

Garcia sighed. "I can't get a trace on the video at all." She shook her head before looking guiltily at Reid. "Sorry, guys."

"It's fine, Baby Girl."

"We stick to our plan," Yassen stated. He pushed away from the desk. "They will get in touch with me. When they do, we'll be ready."

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

Danny squirmed, trying to get that pins-and-needles feeling to disappear from his arms. He spun his wrists and curled his fingers and toes, but the uncomfortable feeling persisted. He wondered why he was back in the hospital and worried that Reid would find out about the words Vlad had carved into his skin—

No, Reid had come and gone already. Danny's brow furrowed. How could he have forgotten that Reid had visited? The genius had found out he was Danny Phantom and that Sam was his obsession.

Oh, but _why_ did he say that stupid line about saving them if he couldn't? Now Reid would tell the hospital he was some sort of suicide threat and wouldn't Yassen be disappointed to hear that—But he hadn't seen Yassen in years, so how would he know? Not that Yassen would _want_ to be around him now, what with his being strapped down to this stupid bed in this stupid hospital, which Yassen would never set foot in, anyway.

No hospitals, no government buildings, no large airports. Oh, God, he'd broken two of Yassen's rules with no good reason. His uncle would be _so_ pissed, and his mom would demand he take refreshers on all of Yassen's evasiveness lessons.

Wait, but Vlad still had his mom, and Jazz, and Tucker, and his dad, and Sam—No, Sam was dead, he'd seen her die. Th—They were _all_ dead. He whimpered, trying to curl into himself and groaning again when he couldn't. Vlad had killed each and every one of them, over and over, and who knows which were real.

He shook himself violently, and something ripped at his hair and skull. The pain pulled him back into the dark, silent room. He realized he'd probably pulled some of his hair out when he shook, possibly even tearing into skin. After all, he could already feel the tiny rivulets of blood dripping down from his legs and arms. Suddenly, he realized he was shivering, each tremor pushing him further into the spikes he was sitting on. He was whimpering, moaning pathetically, but each sound never made it past his lips thanks to the gag taped into his mouth. All of his ghost-enhanced senses were failing him, due in part to the blindfold and ear plugs but mostly because of the ectoshields draining him of his energy.

The thought threw him back to the previous day, when he had been injected with the drug that was making him so confused, so sick.

"_That __was __quinuclidinyl __benzilate,__" _that voice echoed back to him._ "__In __most __people, __it __can __last __up __to __a __week, __but __Masters __warned __us __about __your __drug __resistance.__"_

Of course Vlad did. The man probably spilled every weakness he could think of to Scorpia when he found out they were looking to go after him. Regardless that they were just using him to get to Yassen, Vlad gave them all the information necessary to make his stay as painful as possible. Damn him.

"_This version will last three days in you. That's three days of restlessness, nausea, maybe even hallucinations. Three days where you won't be able to tell reality from dreams."_

That explained why he was so out of it, why he felt that he might throw up at any moment. Not that it would work, given his mouth was taped shut, and he _definitely_ didn't want to spend the next 48 hours with bile on his tongue.

"_And you will be spending those three days in the pound."_

As the hated word floated through his mind, he screamed into the gag, the sound muffled and dying before reaching his covered ears. He jerked in the chair, using all his strength to try to break free, but failing miserably as the cuffs cut deeper into his ankles and wrists. He was stuck, and no one even knew—

"_Wave for the camera, Danny!"_

He hissed at the voice that now took over his thoughts. But, then he realized, _there__was__a__camera._ Someone might be watching even now! He—He could maybe get a message to them, but… how? And what could he possibly say that they wouldn't already know?

Obviously, they'd know he never made it to the airport—oh, he hoped the others involved in the crash were alright—and even saying Scorpia had taken him would be pointless. They'd already made their demands, no doubt. No, he needed to give them something they could use, something that might help them find him.

He simply sat for a few minutes, still twitching, sadly, but thinking hard about what clue he could give them. As he fidgeted, the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck pricked up at a faint breeze coming by. He focused on it, glad for any distraction and not realizing how impossible it should be for him to feel the stale air moving in the room. After a moment, he could sense where the vent was that the air was coming from, and the second vent that it was leaving through. He frowned, finally noticing that something odd was going on. There was no way he could feel the air circulating through the room. He'd never gotten a good look at the room, but suddenly he could see where the camera was set up, where each of the four walls met, where the door was positioned in front of him. No, he couldn't _see_ them, he could _sense_ them, _feel_ them.

That's when it clicked for him. It was something he'd been told, years ago, by his mom and uncle. They said that some people who were blind or deaf found that their other senses became heightened. For them, it often took days, weeks, months, _years_ before they got used to their heightened senses, but for him, someone who already had to adjust once after the accident that turned him half-ghost, the change came quicker. He couldn't see, hear, or taste anything, so his touch and smell were compensating. His sense of touch had already helped, giving him a layout in case he could break free, so now it was time for his sense of smell to help out, too.

He breathed deeply, fighting back the flashes of color that his drugged mind was trying to force on him. It took hours, it seemed, for him to focus enough to understand what he was smelling, but when he did….

He knew what clue to give them.

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

Garcia stayed at her computer all night, promising to let the others know if there were any other videos sent to them. The rest took shifts, dividing into three groups and sending two off to sleep while the third took first turn waiting for another phone call. Yassen refused to leave, as did Reid, claiming that the ex-assassin needed to be the one to answer and that the genius might catch something in the video or the caller's voice that could lead to Scorpia's hide out.

But they soon found out that staying all night was unnecessary. Apparently, even villains slept. When everyone came in the next morning, they found that nothing had changed.

Alex sighed, turning to Yassen. "You're _positive_ they'll call again?" he demanded.

"They'll want to make sure I saw the video," was the succinct reply.

There was a clatter across the room as a coffee cup fell to the floor, then Garcia was yelling out, "I—It's back! The—The video's up again!"

All eleven crowded around the screen once more, seeing the green-tinted room that held the teen they were trying to find. They merely watched for several minutes as Danny squirmed in the spiked chair. His nose would wrinkle in a grimace every few seconds. Reid, Garcia, and JJ hissed in a breath at his obvious pain, and Jack and Prentiss covered their mouths. The rest simply glared, wishing they could get at the Drakes.

Then, the teen in the video froze. The group watching stared, but after a few minutes of Danny not moving, they began to get nervous. Reid started fidgeting, and Hotch and Rossi took turns trying to keep him still.

About ten minutes late, Danny's wrists started spinning again. The girls all sighed in relief, but Morgan leaned in closer, putting a hand on Garcia's shoulder. "What's that?" he murmured, pointing at one of Danny's wrists.

Everyone was suddenly watching intently, trying to see what Morgan meant. Reid blinked after a minute and jumped up, grabbing a pen and paper from the desk and scribbling furiously. He kept glancing between the screen and what he'd written, then ran over to his desk and started up his own computer.

Yassen and Alex shared a look before following Reid as the others hadn't seemed to notice yet. The two ex-spies stood on either side of the genius as he typed frantically at his keyboard. Yassen was the first to see the paper Reid had written on.

"What's swamp pink?" he asked.

"A plant," Reid replied, not slowing in his typing. "It's rare, but grown nearby, but I can't remember exactly—Ah!" Reid tapped at the screen. "There! He'll be held somewhere in one of these three counties!"

Now, the rest were focused on Reid. "What did you find?" Hotch demanded.

"Danny was using Morse code," Reid and Yassen both answered. They shared a look, then Reid continued. "Quick spins were dots, longer spins were dashes. H—He can't see or hear, but he can still smell. He was giving us a clue! Swamp pink, he can smell swamp pink nearby!"

Garcia gasped. "So he'll be wherever they're naturally grown!"

"Which, based on the distance Yassen gave us, is here and here!" Reid finished, pointing at his computer screen.

Hotch nodded sharply. "We'll spread out. Morgan and JJ, Prentiss and Rossi, Ben and Alex, and Reid and I will each take a fourth of those areas. Yassen can join up with one of us if he'd like, but he needs to be more focused on the phone call."

"I'll stay here," Yassen said immediately. "I can help by marking off the areas as you clear them."

It was agreed, and the four groups split up and drove off.

Garcia, Yassen, and Jack went back to watching Danny as he continued to code to them over and over. Almost two hours later, about ten minutes into the search, Danny's cell phone rang.

Yassen calmly walked over and picked it up, nodding at Garcia to start the trace. "Hello?"

"_Do you like our little home video, Yassen?"_

"It's a bit dark, don't you think? He's blindfolded, after all, so no need for the blackout."

Garcia waved at him to keep going.

A chuckle crackled across the line. _"__We __know __what __he__'__s __capable __of, __Yassen. __We __aren__'__t __taking __any __chances.__"_

Jack rolled her eyes, muttering to Garcia, "Good job with that, he's telling us what we need to know right now."

Garcia choked on her giggle, but kept working, narrowing down where the caller was coming from.

"Of course you're not." Yassen glanced over at the two women. "What else would I expect from Scorpia?"

"_Why __don__'__t __you __come __see __for __yourself?__"_ the voice hissed back. _"__After __all, __I__'__m __sure __your __nephew __would __**love **__to __see __you __again.__"_

"I'm sure he would," Yassen responded, "since you took him before he could."

Garcia jabbed at her phone, dialing up the rest and reading off the caller's position.

"_Then __come __and __get __him,__"_ the voice snarled. _"__Stop __hiding __like __a __coward __and __save __your __nephew __if __you __care __so __much.__"_

A click echoed through the room as the phone disconnected. Yassen spun to face Garcia, who grinned weakly at him.

"They're on their way," she said.

"Who?"

"Ben and Alex."

Yassen visibly relaxed. "Then they'll find him."

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

Ben spun his car to a stop, Alex jumping out before the car had even been turned off. Ben followed quickly as Alex rushed into the woods, using his watch's compass to b-line towards the caller, hoping he wasn't too late.

Alex threw out an arm to stop Ben just before he went running into a clearing that was occupied. The two shared a glance, then Alex aimed his watch at the man who was pocketing a cell phone. There was a moment of silence before Alex pressed the hidden button and a small, almost invisible device shot out and latched onto the man's pant leg.

The two MI6 agents cheered silently when the man headed off without noticing the tracker. "Call the FBI," Alex ordered as he moved to follow the man. "Tell them we've got a trace on the caller."

"What about you?" Ben asked, brow furrowing in concern.

"I'll follow him to the hideout, then come back."

"You won't go in there?" Ben was glaring, not quite trusting Alex to leave it alone.

"I will come back. I remember the plan, Ben. Follow him today, break Danny out tomorrow."

Ben studied Alex, then agreed. "Okay. But stay safe."

Alex smirked. "What else do you expect, Ben? After all, I've got the luck of the devil." And then he was gone.

Ben sighed, shaking his head. "That's _why_ I'm worried…."

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Alex snuck off after the caller, keeping to the trees while the man avoided them as much as he could. Meanwhile, he took in all the details he could about the person he was tailing.

The caller was about Alex's height, hair hidden from view by a hat and a high-collared jacket shading the bottom half of his face. Other than that, he was completely nondescript, boring, plain. Alex definitely wouldn't have picked him out as a member of Scorpia. But he supposed that was their reasoning for choosing him.

Once he'd seen all he could, Alex hung back a bit more, using the watch to track his target rather than eyesight. It took another ten minutes, but finally the man disappeared into a tiny, run-down shack that obviously was the entrance to a set of underground tunnels and rooms. Alex glanced down at his watch and memorized the latitude and longitude, then turned around to head back.

Alex carefully picked his way back to the car Ben had borrowed, weaving around trees and bushes and making sure he didn't leave any tracks that Scorpia could follow. After about half an hour more, he'd made his way to the car.

Ben glanced up at him. "So?"

Alex grinned. "I've got it."

Ben smiled wryly back. "Let's go tell those FBI gents that we've done their job for them, shall we?"

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The world had shrunk down to smells and feelings. The air was stale bread and paper, circulating for a few minutes every hour or so before just sitting in the room, hanging there and pulling down on his shoulders and arms. He couldn't quite pinpoint the moment where gravity had become something tangible, something he could _feel_, but it certainly was getting annoying as each subtle pull from the natural force was pushing him further into the spikes covering the chair.

He sighed soundlessly, glad that he was finally controlling the fidgeting, even if he was still nauseous and hallucinating off and on. At the very least, he was adapting to the drug still rushing through his system. He had to admit, Vlad knew what he was doing. No other drug he'd been given had ever lasted this long, and he'd been drugged several times while on the run, even though the marks from the needles had faded quickly.

Colors flashed at him again, but he ignored them, not wanting to get caught up in a vivid memory-gone-wrong, as he called the majority of the hallucinations he'd been having. They all seemed to stem from memories of the past two years, mostly of being on the run, but one or two had been from the time between the Portal accident and Vlad revealing him. All were horrible mockeries of what had really happened, twisted by the drug and the pain that was slowly becoming a dull throb.

That was the one downside to his heightened sense of touch. All the pain had gotten too much for him. He had passed out once or twice, but he was beginning to adjust to that, too. Meanwhile, he never stopped twirling his wrists, unsure if he'd gotten the message to them, if they were even watching. After all, who's to say the Drakes had left the camera on? Danny knew he was probably getting his hopes up for nothing, but he couldn't help it. He had one more day in here still, 24 more hours in which they could save him.

And if they didn't, he'd find a way to save himself.

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Alex and Ben pulled into the FBI's parking lot after dark. With a sigh, Alex realized they'd have to wait until tomorrow to put their plan into action as Jack would never let him break in to their hideout this late with no sleep. Still, there was planning to be done, so he led Ben inside.

The FBI team and Yassen were waiting for them. Alex took a moment, studying each of their faces. Hotch, Rossi, and Morgan were pissed, not at Danny but for him. They'd tear the Drakes apart for what they'd done to the teen. JJ, Garcia, and Prentiss were angry as well, not as much, but they'd still be a force to reckon with once the kidnappers were in reach. Jack was terrified, both for Alex and Danny, but she also seemed concerned, knowing Danny was a kindred spirit to Alex. And how could he not be? Both had spy uncles who had taught them all the tricks they could, for self-defense in Danny's case and training to become a spy in Alex's.

That was the moment Alex realized Yassen had known his sister's family could eventually be used against him. The man had _planned_ on it and spent the years training them to be able to hold out until help could come for them. Alex's gaze turned to Yassen, seeing for the first time true emotions on the man's face.

Yassen was worried, sure, but he also knew Danny was capable of taking care of himself and resourceful. Yassen knew his nephew would find a way out if help didn't come, but they were going to make sure he never had to prove it.

Alex looked back to Hotch. "Tomorrow, we're getting him out."

And he would never forget the relieved look that flashed—quicker than a blink—across Yassen's face.

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A/N: Okay, so wow, bad idea to do a ton of typing after a Jungle Speed tournament. I think my wrist is sprained…. Anywayz, as far as my research showed, yes, swamp pink is a real plant, and yes, it is grown in only three counties in Virginia. There are spots within two hours' driving time of Quantico, or so mapquest claims. As to the super-touch and super-smell, artistic license? Though given he had enhanced senses before hand, it is possible this could happen. Maybe.

Read and review, please!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: So, by the time this is posted, it'll officially be Boxing Day (my time), so Merry belated Christmas to you all, and a Happy New Year! Next chapter may be delayed, mostly because my brother and sister-in-law are moving for a new job and require a babysitter for my niece during their job training, so I'm flying out to Nebraska for a little over a week after New Years'. Also, I currently have a bum wrist (yay tendinitis! -.-), so typing is… interesting, to say the least. Oh, and I FINALLY finished the epilogue. It shall be huge. :)

AND I PASSED ENDO! Barely, but who really cares? IT IS OVER! ...But I have the same teacher next semester for Animal Reproduction…. -.-; I just can't win.

Playlist for this chapter: Breaking Benjamin's "Hopeless," Evanescence's "Taking Over Me," and Linkin Park's "One Step Closer."

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They had planned for almost three hours before Jack ordered Alex to bed. The two Brits (and the Brit-by-choice) left quickly, Alex promising they'd be back first thing tomorrow to put their plan into action.

Prentiss, Reid, and JJ continued to review while Hotch, Rossi, and Morgan watched Yassen. The ex-assassin had taken up a post by the stairs to the catwalk (and Hotch, Rossi, and Morgan's offices) and simply stood, leaning against the wall, eyes closed.

Morgan was the first to realize where he recognized that posture. "Hey," he hissed at Hotch, nodding at Yassen, "where've you seen that stance?"

Now, Hotch and Rossi were focused on the body language, not the person. "He's tense," Hotch said finally. Then he frowned, comparing that to Yassen's previous stances. "What made him go from relaxed to tense?"

"It can't be the kidnapping," Rossi declared. "Danny had already been taken when he got here."

"It's that video," Morgan explained. "He only got like that after he saw _who_ had Danny. But, who does that posture _remind_ you of?"

There was a long pause as both studied the ex-assassin. Then, Rossi's eyes went wide. "God, they really _are_ related…."

Hotch nodded, then started towards Yassen, but Morgan flung out an arm to stop him. Hotch glanced at him, wordlessly asking why he'd been stopped.

"Let me talk to him," Morgan requested. "He knows you two don't trust him, but I might be seen as more neutral."

The two senior agents shared a look before Hotch nodded. "See what you can find out."

Morgan headed over, and Rossi turned back to Hotch. "He's really worried about Danny, isn't he?"

"He may be a hired gun, but Danny is his family. Of course he's worried."

Rossi nodded absentmindedly, then shook his head to clear it and glanced back at Hotch. "Do you think it's better or worse to know the people torturing him?"

"Given that knowing has turned an unshakeable man so tense? Worse."

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Yassen watched as Morgan approached, but he made sure to not make his attention obvious. Morgan came to a stop right in front of Yassen and placed a hand on the killer's shoulder. The ginger-haired man stared at Morgan.

"C'mon," Morgan said, tilting his head to gesture at the stairs, "let's talk for a bit."

Yassen let himself be led up and into an office. As Morgan shut the door, the other subtly studied the room.

It was sparse, merely a desk, chair, and bookshelf. The desk itself looked unused, as did the chair, and the shelf was nearly empty, but Morgan's name was on the desk and the door.

"Your office," Yassen more stated than asked.

"Yeah. I only really use it if Hotch is away, since at those times, he leaves me in charge. It's been a while since I used it."

Yassen nodded slowly, seeing the fine layer of dust in the room. He turned to face Morgan. "What did you want to talk about?"

Morgan sat on the corner of his desk. "We're gonna find Danny."

"I know."

"I mean, we already know where he is, and—" Morgan blinked. "Wait. You know?"

"Yes."

Morgan frowned. "Then why are you so tense and worried?"

"Because we don't know what state Daniil will be in when we get him out." Yassen leaned against the wall, folding his arms over his chest. "You all told me what he went through with Vlad, and I know my nephew. He sees the good in people but not the bad. After the past two years on the road, I expect that mentality has been shaken in him. Not only does he have to deal with the things done to him but also the break down of his way of looking at life."

The FBI agent thought that over, nodded. "You'll want to talk to Reid about all that. He's basically tracking how Danny's dealing with everything, including the changes his ghost half is forcing on his biology." Morgan chuckled, glancing back up at Yassen with a grin. "You'll want to make sure your kitchen's well-stocked. The kid goes through about 5000 calories per meal, easily."

Yassen's brow furrowed. "How—?"

"Reid can give you a better explanation, but basically his ghost mode speeds up how his body processes anything put into it. So, he needs more food than normal to get the right amount of nutrients, and any drugs he's given get removed quicker."

"Masters drugged him?"

"Yeah, chloroform. Enough to knock out an elephant, but Danny was up again within five hours."

"So, this quinuclidinyl benzilate they gave him, Masters made it specifically for half-ghosts but used regular chloroform on Danny before?"

Morgan frowned. "Um, yeah. What're you gettin' at?"

"You are sure Masters is dead, right?"

Now, the agent was glaring. "Hotch checked him himself. Masters was nothin' but bones and ashes."

"It is odd, though, that he wouldn't have used something tailor-made for his victim. No assassin would go into a job unprepared like that. And, didn't you say before that Daniil stopped his vitals to fake his own death?"

"Wait." Morgan slid off the desk, eyes going wide. "Are you trying to say—?"

"How can you be sure?" a voice demanded from the doorway. Morgan and Yassen looked over to see Rossi standing there, a stern look on his face.

Yassen pushed away from the wall. "I can't. But if he had the injuries you described, he should be dead."

"Just should?"

The ex-assassin shrugged fluidly. "That's all I can say. The point is, he obviously hadn't been expecting to have the opportunity to drug Daniil. It didn't go according to plan." He turned fully to Rossi now. "But Masters is not our concern right now. Alex will break in to Scorpia's hideout tomorrow. That is what we need to worry about."

"And you trust this kid to get Danny out?" Rossi wondered, finally voicing his disbelief that the kid they'd called in would be any help.

"He has faced Scorpia twice already," Yassen stated, "and both times he ruined whatever their newest operation was. Besides that, he's been on five other successful missions, two for the CIA, two for MI6, and one on his own."

Rossi's brow furrowed. "On his own?"

Yassen gave a slight smirk. "He got suspicious about a singer, Damian Cray. Turns out, the man was planning to break into Air Force One and bomb several countries responsible for making and distributing drugs. That mission is why Alex believed me to be dead. Cray shot me when I refused to kill Alex and his friend."

Rossi nodded once, then studied the ex-assassin. "For someone who is supposed to be his enemy, you sure seem to like Alex."

Yassen's smirk faded to a vague smile, and he stared off for a moment before answering. "He is too young for this life," he finally mumbled, "but too good to leave. But he hasn't had a mission in a year. I believe he requested MI6 to not ask for him until he finished school. He shouldn't be here…."

"But he is," Rossi stated.

"Yes, only because he heard Scorpia was involved. He's only the second person who beat Scorpia and lived."

"Then who was the first?" Morgan asked, curious.

"The man who trained me," Yassen replied, "Alex's father, John Rider."

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

"Guys," Garcia murmured, waving Reid, JJ, Prentiss, and Hotch over, "come see this."

"What is it, Garcia?" Hotch demanded as they walked to the computer and desk she was borrowing.

"A—Another video," she whispered, rewinding it back to the beginning. "They—They sent it just a couple minutes ago." She glanced up and backwards at Reid. "Y—You're not gonna like seeing this, Reid."

Reid shook his head. "J—Just play it, Garcia."

With a quick glance at Hotch to get his okay, Garcia pressed play.

The green-tinted room sprung to life on the screen once more. Danny was still sitting, strapped down to the spiked chair, but he wasn't fidgeting, or, at least, not more than normal. He was still making circles with his wrists, spelling out "swamp pink" over and over again. The team could also see Danny's fingers and toes curling and uncurling sporadically, but that was common in the teen when he was sitting for long periods of time.

But then Myrina and Samael came into the picture. Myrina was pouting, squatting to one side and watching Danny. She glared up at her brother, who was standing, arms crossed, next to the teen.

"_You said it'd be effective for three days,"_ Myrina whined.

"_That's what Masters said!"_ Samael snarled back, fingers starting to drum against his elbows. _"The nephew should still be squirming!"_

"They don't know they're being recorded," Prentiss murmured.

"Correct-a-mundo, my friend," Garcia replied. "They have no idea their camera is on."

"There's a third partner," Reid stated, "and whoever that is wanted us to see this."

"Yep. Now the problem is, why?"

"_Give him more of it!"_ Myrina exclaimed, drawing everyone's attention back to the screen.

"_I can't!"_

"_Well, why the hell not?"_

"_It'll last too long. He'd be out for another two days!"_

"_So give him half!"_

Samael rolled his eyes, fingers clenching into fists. _"It doesn't __**work**__ that way, you moron!"_

"_Well, you've gotta give him **something!** It'll ruin **everything** if he makes it seem like we're not keeping our end of the deal!"_

"_Fine!"_ Samael marched away, footsteps echoing back to them. For a long moment, the team simply watched Myrina as she watched Danny move his hands and feet.

They could see the exact moment when Danny realized he wasn't alone. He'd been so focused on signing out his message that he hadn't noticed the change in the room. But then he stiffened, not a single muscle moving except his wrinkling nose.

Myrina seemed to find this amusing. She giggled at Danny's defensive posture, knowing he couldn't really defend himself, but she had no idea what had made him react. She stood, moving closer to him, and he tossed his head the opposite way, grimacing at whatever he'd smelled from her.

She frowned, calling out, _"Brother, he knows I'm here."_

"_Well, he won't for long,"_ Samael replied, footsteps proving he was coming back. He moved back into the frame, squeezing the air out of a syringe. _"Let's see how he likes __**this.**__" _ He squatted next to Danny, pressing the needle up against the crook of the teen's elbow.

Danny jerked, trying to pull away. A muffled noise that might've been a whimper or might've been a scream forced its way past the gag.

Reid winced but didn't look away as the needle was shoved into Danny's arm. The genius roughly pushed the memory of Tobias Hankel doing the same to him to the back of his mind, focusing solely on the teen as he thrashed in his restraints.

"_What was that?"_ Myrina murmured.

"_Dimethyltryptamine,"_ Samael replied. _"Enough to last him about a day, hopefully."_

The team collectively blinked before Reid placed the drug and hissed in a breath.

"_Come, sister, we have to plan for tomorrow."_

The two siblings walked out, and the camera showed Danny twitching feebly for a moment before it blinked off.

Hotch turned immediately to Reid. "What do you know about that drug?"

"Dimethyltryptamine," Reid began in full lecture mode though somewhat more somber than usual, "is a hallucinogen. But it only lasts a few minutes when injected. Ingestion would cause a longer affect, but either way, it'd only last a few _seconds_ in Danny!"

"What are you saying, Reid?"

"It had to have been tailor-made for Danny."

"By Masters?"

"Or one of the Drakes, based on Masters' quinuclidinyl benzilate."

"What are the effects?" JJ asked, interrupting.

Reid blinked a couple times before turning to her. "H—Hallucinations, mostly. It's actually found naturally in humans at death. Some believe dimethyltryptamine is responsible for the visions seen during a near death experience. Your life flashing before you, the 'light', or even images of what some believe to be he afterlife, all are most likely caused by DMT released in response to a fatality."

"So, Danny will be hallucinating all day?" Prentiss gaped, horrified at the thought. After all, no hallucinogen she could think of lasted anywhere _near_ 24 hours.

Hotch's lips were pulled to thin lines as he scowled. "As soon as Rider and Daniels get here, we're going in." Then he marched over to the stairs, B-lining for Morgan's office.

"Where are you going?" Reid called after him.

"Yassen needs to know what's happening to his nephew."

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

He was too focused on sending them his clue. He should've known the moment they walked in, but all he could think of was spinning his wrists in the right pattern.

But then the copper reached his nose. Copper, and something vaguely spoiled, like meat past its expiration date, assaulted him, and he froze, nose wrinkling as it tried to ignore the foul scent. Something was moving towards him, and he knew it had to be Myrina because Samael told him he didn't deal with the blood and guts part of their job. She was too close, and he kept squirming, trying to avoid smelling the blood and rotting flesh perfume she seemed to be wearing.

Then, someone else was next to him, and new scents met his nose. Bleach and antiseptic mixed with rainwater that he somehow _knew_ was liquid body wash. But then something was shoved into his elbow and he screamed, but no noise met his ears. Then, a new fire shot through his veins, burning his blood even as dozens of new pains made themselves known from his jerking against the spikes.

Colors burst across his vision, the blackness replaced immediately by light and sound and flavors that he didn't want to see or hear or taste. There were people everywhere, and stars, and places he'd seen or been in during his two years on the run.

Then Yassen was there, staring at him with that cold glare he reserved for the people he worked for and those he killed. "You can't leave," he was saying. "This is your punishment."

"F—For what?" He didn't even realize he couldn't actually speak, completely overcome by the vision.

"For putting your friends and family in harm's way. I thought your mother and I had trained you better than that."

"I—I didn't! I didn't put them in danger, I—I _left!_ I ran so they _wouldn't_ be in trouble!"

Yassen shifted into Sam, hands on hips and eyes on fire. "Fat lot of good _that_ did us, huh, Danny?"

"S—_Sam?_" His eyes were wide, mouth gaping, as his mind tried to tell him this wasn't really happening.

"You _let_ him get us, Danny. You let him _kill_ me!" Her face shifted, and now they all stood before him, Sam, Tuck, Jazz, and his parents. "_You let him kill us __**all!**_"

"_No!_" Danny yelled, thrashing as they grabbed at him to hold him in place. "No! I—I was only trying to _help!_ Vlad's—Vlad's _dead!_ He's dead! We killed him! _**I**__ killed him!_"

The grip on his arms and legs became iron. He looked at his captor, seeing Vlad for a moment before Yassen came back. "Better you put them in harm's way than be a _murderer!_"

"B—But—!"

"You _deserve_ this," his uncle hissed, morphing into Reid, then Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and the rest of the team throughout the following speech. "You _deserve_ the pain after all you've done! Over and over and over you found their bodies, each and every one of them! Then, you couldn't even save Sam, your _obsession!_ You were _two feet away_ from her when he raped her and killed her! You just _stood_ there and let him do it! You _deserved_ to be cut up! You _deserve_ to be locked up and poked and prodded and injected! You don't deserve to live with them dead.

"_YOU DESERVE TO __**DIE!**_"

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

"Wait, Alex's _dad_ trained you?" Morgan repeated, shocked.

Yassen nodded. "He was deep undercover in Scorpia at the time. He had everyone fooled, including the founders. MI6 staged an ambush to pull him out without risking his cover, then proceeded to 'trade' him for a hostage Scorpia had captured, but once the boy was in their reach, they shot John. Everyone believed him to be dead, but an MI6 agent turned on his employers and told the founders the whole story. They had him prove his loyalty to them by placing a bomb on the plane John and his wife Helen were on."

"Where was Alex when this happened?" Rossi wondered.

"At home, sick. He was to join them later. Instead, he ended up moving in with his uncle, Ian Rider. He was only a few months old."

"...Rider had just died when Danny was born, hadn't he?" Morgan asked. "That's why you had Danny take on his name for his middle name. Hunter was a codename, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"And yours was Cossack," Morgan guessed.

Yassen smirked. "Finally catching on, are you?" He turned somber again. "Yes, my codename was Cossack. I still use it from time to time, mostly with my family."

Hotch came in at that moment, saying only, "We got another video."

The three rushed out and had Garcia replay it for them. By the end, Yassen's hands were white-knuckled, squeezing at his elbows, and Rossi and Morgan looked ready to pounce.

"Where the hell do they get off doing this to a _kid?_" Morgan snarled.

"They don't care about his age," Yassen replied. "They just want their money." He turned to Hotch and Rossi, saying, "We can't wait much longer. I didn't mention it before, but Daniil's mind has a tendency to turn on him when he's given hallucinatory drugs."

Garcia and JJ's jaws dropped. "This has happened to him before?" the technical analyst exclaimed.

Yassen shook his head. "He was accident-prone as a child, and the hospital would give him painkillers that caused hallucinations. Daniil often blames himself for anything bad that happens, and the hallucinations take that blame and turn it into something deadly."

"It made him suicidal?" Reid guessed.

"Only while he was on that medication. Once he got off, he'd be back to his usual self. Maddie alerted the doctors once she found the connection."

"We still have to wait for Alex, though," Hotch stated, bringing the conversation back on topic. "He's the main part of our plan."

"And he just came in," Yassen nodded at the door, where Alex, Ben, and Jack were standing.

Alex marched over, declaring, "We're going in now."

The team nodded, and Rossi simply stated, "Let's go."

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

The drive over was quiet, mostly spent worrying or reviewing. Ben took that time to show Alex the gadgets Smithers had given him. He was currently pointing out the stud earring he wore, saying, "It's synced with your panic button, so I'll know immediately if you trigger it."

"Which will only happen if the plan goes wrong," Alex added.

Ben rolled his eyes. "When does _anything_ you plan go _right?_"

Alex hesitated, mouth open and ready to retort, but he thought it through. Then, he shrugged. "Usually just when it's me winging it."

Ben chuckled before pulling a cell phone from his pocket. "This has a laser in it that can cut through steel."

"Perfect for making an exit."

"And there's a retractable blade in my boots in case I get disarmed."

Alex grinned. "So, this'll be hard to screw up."

"Where there's a will, there's a way, Alex."

They finally slowed to a stop near the clearing the caller had been in yesterday. Alex easily slid out of the car, motioning for the others to follow him. As they walked, he went over some of the details.

"You'll have to find cover while you wait for me to come back. Try to keep to the trees, it'll be harder for them to find you up in the branches." He turned more towards Ben, saying, "Since I can get in touch with you. I'll let you know when Garcia can start her hack."

"How?" Ben asked, brow furrowed.

"The panic button. If I hit it once, she can start. Twice, I've found Danny and we're coming out. Three times is trouble."

"Got it."

They arrived at the shack, sticking to the trees and not approaching just yet. Alex pulled out his MP3 before facing the group. "It could take me a little while to get back in touch, let alone find Danny. But if you don't hear from me within three hours, there was a problem."

The team, Ben, and Yassen all nodded solemnly.

Alex looked at the ex-assassin. "I'll bring him back."

Yassen met his eyes for a moment before jumping gracefully up into a tree, vanishing in the branches.

The teen took that as a dismissal and held down the stop button on the music player. Then, he disappeared into the shack.

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

It took two hours for Alex to find the main part of the hideout. Half that time had been spent guessing his way through a maze of hallways and half was spent retracing his steps. But he'd managed it, and, as he hid just out of sight, he held down the Forward button on his MP3. Then, he jabbed the panic button on his shoe once.

Alex pulled out his PSP, turning it on and scrolling over to Saved Data. With a tap of the 'X' key, he found himself reading a live, one-way IM chat from Garcia.

_{All the info on here is schemes and members. Nothing about Danny but plenty to shut them down for good. Sorry, Bond Jr, but you'll have to find Danny on your own.}_

Alex sighed and pocketed the device, then he knelt down and pulled the gum from his shoe. He causally stuck it next to the door jamb, then put the MP3's head phones in his ears.

"—_have to take him out tomorrow,"_ someone—a man—was saying. _"We can call Yassen and give him a deadline."_

"_Then I can play?" _an excitable, female voice asked.

"_Of course. And if Yassen misses his deadline, the nephew's all yours."_

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

A/N: ...Ow. Okay, avoid typing when you have tendinitis. It's a bad idea. Well, hope you enjoyed, I'm off to heat my sore arm. Read and review, please!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Alright, more typing while babysitting, yay. Now, if my niece could just be calm for a while, that'd be great. Anyways, off we go to the gang in Amity Park!

Playlist for chapter: Atreyu's "The Theft," Flyleaf's "Again," and Hawk Nelson's "Nothing Left to Show."

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

Sam and Tucker knew something was wrong. How else could they explain the sudden silence from Danny? But the Fentons refused to let them in on whatever they knew. Even Danielle was being kept in the dark, but Val and Sam agreed that was probably just because she didn't know this mysterious uncle Danny was supposed to be living with.

The teens had already tried getting info from Maddie and Jack and failed miserably. Their only hope now was Jazz.

They cornered her at Nasty Burger five days after losing touch with Danny. The redhead had several textbooks laid out before her and was scribbling frantically in a notebook. Jazz had been studying furiously for her college courses which she'd start in about a month and a half. She'd retaken her SATs for about the fourth time and passed her GED with flying colors, but for some reason, she'd convinced herself she'd be way behind all her classmates due to missing two years of school. Thus, she decided to start cramming early.

"Jazz," Sam began as the four younger teens trapped the girl in the booth by sliding in beside her. "We need to talk."

Bleary aquamarine eyes blinked around at each of them. "W—What are you guys doing here?" she mumbled. Her eyes locked onto Sam, and an eyebrow jumped up. "Didn't your parents refile that restraining order?"

Sam smirked. "Yeah, but it only mentions _Danny_, not the rest of you guys." She sobered. "But we _need_ to talk to you, Jazz."

"Sure, what about?"

"Danny."

Jazz's eyes went wide. There was a moment where Sam, Tuck, and Val were worried they'd broken her, but Danielle recognized the look as the one she'd gotten from her adoptive sister lately when anyone brought up Danny. Then, Jazz started grabbing at her books, packing quickly. "I—I just remembered," she stammered, "I n—needa go to th—the library—"

"None of your books are due anytime soon," Danielle argued. "You were there yesterday to check all these out. We want to know what's happened to Danny."

The young woman's eyes were jumping all over before she sighed. "Alright," she said, "I'll tell you. But not here."

Ten minutes later, the group was gathered in the mall, sitting in the overly-busy, crowded food court. When questioned on her choice of rendezvous point, Jazz simply stated, "Less chance of being overheard."

All four teens, who had allowed some hope for good news, felt their hearts plummet about ten stories below ground. Val sunk into her seat, Tuck actually dropped his PDA, Sam did a decent impression of a landed fish, and Danielle shook her head sadly.

"You guys really _do_ know what's going on with him, don't you? I mean, I knew you knew more than us, but… you actually _know_ the whole thing." Danielle locked eyes with Jazz. "Why did none of you tell me?"

"We've never told _anyone_, Danielle, not just you." Jazz turned to face Sam and Tuck, sighing. "You two know about Mom being adopted, right?"

"Yeah," they replied together.

"How much did Danny ever tell you about _before_ Mom got adopted?" At their blank looks, she nodded. "Nothing, then. Good, Mom would've been _so_ pissed…. Anyway, Mom came from Russia originally."

All four blinked and gasped. "_What?_"

"Yep. Her twin brother raised enough money to send her here after their parents died, but he recently decided to, um, 'quit' that job. Unfortunately, it's not exactly the type of job someone can just hand in their two weeks' notice."

Tucker chuckled nervously. "Oh, come _on_, Jazz. You can do better than _that!_ It almost sounds like you want us to believe your uncle is a Russian spy or something!"

Jazz didn't respond, studying the ground and twiddling her thumbs.

The four gaped. "Y—You mean, he _is?_"

"Not a Russian spy," Jazz was quick to correct, "and not anymore. He faked his death two years ago in order to leave his employers. They found out."

"They took Danny," Sam finished.

Jazz nodded. "Uncle Yassen told Mom that Danny was taken after a huge pile-up in D.C. the day his plane arrived. He knew something was wrong when Danny wasn't there to greet him. A message was found on Danny's phone from Yassen's former coworkers. They demanded Yassen to come back or—or they'll kill Danny. But they'll kill Yassen if he does return, so he's working with the FBI and some of his spy buddies to break Danny out."

"Do they know how Danny's doing?" Val asked, brow furrowing in concern for their friend.

Jazz bit her lip. "If they do, they aren't telling us."

"Y—You _can't_."

The quiet words surprised everyone, causing them all to turn to Danielle. She sat, trembling in her seat, head bowed and eyes curtained by her bangs. Her hands were clenched into tight fists that turned her skin pure white. "You can't honestly just expect us to _sit here_ while Danny's in trouble!" Her head snapped up, glowing, fiery green eyes glaring around at her friends.

"W—We can't do anything to help," Jazz stammered, shocked at her adoptive sister's reaction.

"The hell we can't!" Danielle snapped back, jumping out of her seat. "Danny spent _two years_ traveling the country, watching all of you die _over and over_, and he _still_ fought off _Vlad_ to save you, even when he was _sure_ you were _dead!_ You're telling _me_ that you can't—_won't_ return the favor?"

The whole group was staring with wide eyes now. Val being the only one to have seen Danielle mad before, and even then, it was nothing close to the rage she was exuding now.

"He _busted _his_ ass_ to save you three and his parents, and you're just gonna hang him out to dry? After all he's been through the last few years, you're just _giving up?_"

"H—He's got Yassen and the BAU, though—"

"I don't care if he's got the freaking _army_, _he needs our help!_"

Now, Sam stood. "She's right. Even _before_ Vlad took us, we were _always_ depending on Danny to save us." She stared around at the other three before placing one hand on Danielle's shoulder and the other out in front of her. "It's time for _us_ to save _him._ Who's with me?"

Danielle's hand quickly fell atop Sam's. The two girls looked at the others for a long, silent moment before Tuck sighed.

"We _do_ owe him," he said, then mumbled, "and Sam'll kill me if I don't." He stood, putting a hand over Danielle's. "I'm in."

Val stood next, smiling at Danielle. "What's one more trip?" she asked. "Besides, at least this time, we've got a good idea of where he is." Her hand went on top of the pile. "Let's do this thing."

All four turned to look at Jazz. The eighteen-year-old chewed on her lip, looking anywhere _but_ at the four younger teens.

A minute stretched by, then two. Jazz remained quiet, eyes distant. At three minutes, Danny's best friends drooped a bit, giving up hope that his sister would change her mind, but Danielle kept her fiery gaze on Jazz.

Finally, after a full five minutes of waiting, Jazz stood and turned to leave. The three humans sighed, dropping back into their seats in defeat, but Danielle remained standing, calling out, "Where do you think you're going?"

Jazz didn't even pause, simply yelling back over her shoulder, "To buy us some plane tickets!"

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

Alex had spent two and a half hours thinking over what he'd heard and searching the hideout before realizing he needed to check in again. He toed the panic button once.

The PSP, which he still had out to the IM page, beeped, displaying a new message from Garcia.

_{Something new for me to hack? Oh, one for yes, two for no.}_

He hit the button twice.

_{Um, oh, just checking in with us?}_

The button was jabbed once more.

_{Alright. I'll let the guys know that one jab is now a "still doing okay" from you.}_

Alex tapped out 'TY' in Morse code.

_{You're welcome, sugar,}_ Garcia sent back. _{And good luck finding our boy.}_

Alex stowed the PSP, then pulled out the MP3 again. He'd taken the listening gum from where he'd placed it earlier and now removed it again from his shoe, sticking it to the wall before him. His headphones were quickly shoved into his ears, and he listened carefully. After a moment of hearing nothing but gossip about bosses and the heads of Scorpia, he shook his head, pulled the gum free, and moved on. He wasted another two hours repeating this procedure every twenty or so feet.

As he moved along, he made sure to keep track of time so he could contact the others again. As such, he knew he was close to three hours when he hit a silent spot on the wall. At first, he frowned, thinking maybe he'd found an empty room or a dividing wall, but after a long moment, there was a muffled noise from inside.

Alex's brow furrowed as he tried to place the vaguely familiar sound. It came again, louder this time and more panicked. That's when he realized it was a muffled scream and that, unless they'd kidnapped someone else recently, that had to be where Scorpia was keeping Danny!

He tapped once at the panic button, but before he could hit it again, something crashed against his head and the room went dark.

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

Ben sighed as he pulled his hand away from his comm earring, glancing around at the others. "He just checked in again," Ben stated. "No Danny, but no trouble, either."

Reid, Morgan, and Rossi slumped a bit at the lack of news. Hotch merely nodded, and JJ and Prentiss sighed. Yassen was off to one side, speaking in hushed, rapid Russian over a cellphone. After a moment, he snapped it shut and turned back to the rest.

"That was Jazz," he said simply. "She's booking tickets to fly out here with Danielle, Sam, Tucker, and Valerie. I told her we had everything under control and to not come."

Reid nodded. "The last thing we need is for Scorpia to have Danny _and_ Jazz."

"Alex has been in there for nine hours now," Hotch declared, garnering everyone's attention. "It's getting late. We should call him back for tonight and start again tomorrow."

Ben shook his head. "He won't go along with it. In fact, he's probably found a place to hunker down for the night. We can take shifts, but we may not hear from him again until morning. In the meantime—"

Danny's cellphone went off in Yassen's pocket. He quickly drew it out and answered, setting it on speaker phone mode. "Yes?"

"_I hope, for your nephew's sake, that whatever plan you have to break him out is quick," _the disguised voice purred. _"They're only giving you two more days to decide."_

"You're the one who sent that second video." It wasn't a question. Yassen knew that this person couldn't be either of the deranged Drakes. This person didn't care one way or the other about torturing Danny, but that just left the question: who was _he_ after?

"_Very good, Yassen. Yes, I felt you and your FBI friends deserved to know that the Drakes are as fallible as the rest of us. Besides, I know some people who've been subjected to Samael's little… experiments. They're not exactly something a child should have to go through."_

"Then get Danny out."

A chuckle crackled across the line. _"Sorry, can't. I'm not quite ready to give up my position here yet. But the time is ticking, Yassen, and your nephew can't wait much longer. You have two days to turn yourself in, or Myrina gets a new plaything."_

The dial tone seemed to echo around the team. Yassen tucked the phone away and leaned back against the tree he was perched in. After a few minutes of silence, he looked around at the others. "Alex needs to find Danny by tomorrow."

Ben's brow furrowed. "I know we have to get him out ASAP, but we _do_ have two days."

Yassen shook his head. "Myrina isn't patient enough to wait. She'll start her 'playing' in the morning, once he's out of solitary."

"How's that any worse than what he's already been through?" JJ asked.

"Because up to now, Myrina has been kept reigned in. Once he's 'hers', she'll have no restrictions." He pursed his lips as he thought back. "The last two people she was 'given' were gutted, dismembered, and turned inside out. And she knows how to keep her victim alive and conscious until the end."

Even Hotch, Morgan, and Ben looked green at that. JJ and Reid looked about ready to vomit.

"That's why we need to get him out. _Now._"

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

Jazz snapped her phone shut, barely restraining herself from throwing it across the room. Instead, her fingers curled tightly around it, nearly crushing the device.

Danielle was the only one brave enough to speak up. "What did he say?"

"Not to come," she growled. Jazz Fenton _growled_. "Something about not needing them to have me and Danny both."

"So," Sam trailed off for a moment, glancing around at everyone. "What now?"

Jazz huffed, brushing her hair back over a shoulder, chin held high. "We sleep. Our flight's not for another seven hours." Then, she glanced down at her phone. "In the meantime, I've got another call to make…."

She walked out of the room as Sam told the others where they could sleep. Her fingers jabbed at the keys before she could change her mind, but she still tapped a foot nervously as the call connected.

"_Supreme Overlord of All Things Electronic, speak, peasant,"_ a cheery, if a bit tense, voice answered.

"Garcia, I'm glad I caught you."

She could hear the analyst's confusion. _"Jazz? What's up, girlie?"_

"Sam, Tuck, Val, Danielle, and I are flying out there in the morning. Could you pick us up at the airport? I'm sure you can understand our mistrust of public transit given the situation."

"_Sure thing, sweetcheeks. But, uh, what's the occasion?"_

"We just wanna be there when Danny's brought home."

"_Alright. What time are you getting in?"_

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

His fault. All his fault. They were dead, all of them, deaddeaddead. All his fault. Should've saved them, could've saved them, but he didn't. Now they were dead.

All he had were clones, fakes. They weren't real, nonono, not real, fake, replaced. Vald replaced them, and he couldn't even tell! They were too good, though. Too smart, too close to the real thing. Vlad even gave them all their memories. The Mom-clone knew _Russian!_ Vlad didn't know about that, he _couldn't_—but he _did_. He knew somehow.

Oh, God, they were in Amity Park, trying to "fix" things for him to come back! They were gonna turn everyone even _more_ against him! It wouldn't be safe, not even at home now. Notsafe,notsafe, and he'd be all alone, surrounded by fakes and people who hated him and no one would be able to help, not Reid, not Hotch, not Yassen.

Not that they would _want_ to help him when they realized he'd let them die, might as well have killed them himself with all the good he did. No, they'd hate him, too, if they knew, and they'd find out, they all would. They were smartsmartsmart and Yassen always knows when something's wrong. He'd probably known as soon as he spoke to the Mom-clone, and he'd be so disappointed that Danny couldn't figure it out himself.

No, he was so stupidstupidstupid to think everything was okay, even with Vlad dead. Of course, Vlad would screw this up for him from beyond the grave. He never could leave well enough alone. And he'd even _told_ him they were dead, but the clones had convinced him otherwise! Vlad must be laughing at him for being such a gullible moron!

Now they were all gone, because he'd been too stupid to realize. Allgone,alldead.

Hisfaulthisfaulthisfault.

Maybe he _did_ deserve to die….

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

It was early morning when the Drakes came back. Danny could smell the dew on the plants outside as the air circulated through the room. His stomach curled in on itself as he realized he hadn't eaten in almost four days. For the first time, he was glad this place drained his ghost powers or he would've starved to death by now. As it was, he was in definite need of water and almost wouldn't mind if he got it via drowning again.

The blood-and-guts smell alerted Danny to Myrina's presence, but he couldn't quite make himself care. She was talking to herself if the little bursts of minty breath were any indication. The air in front of him moved as she came towards him, then everything stopped.

There was a long moment where the air crackled with tension before white hot pain seared across the bottom half of his face. His scream was caught by the cloth in his mouth, but the duct tape was gone. The cloth was tugged out next, then Myrina ripped the duct tape off his ears.

This time, his howl of pain was audible, way too loud for his sensitive ears after three days of silence. He thrashed against his restraints, feeling the spikes dig in again but ignoring them as he'd learned to do.

Myrina was laughing, he could hear her smiling at his pain. She unfastened his wrists and ankles, tugging him up off the chair and laughing more at the groan he made as the spikes came free of his back, arms, and legs. He slumped, having to trust Myrina to carry him (and what a scary thought that was, trusting her) since his legs were about as solid as jelly. The blindfold was left on as he was dragged through the winding, labyrinth halls before being unceremoniously dumped on the floor.

He just lay there as Myrina moved around, gathering items from a counter. A deep breath and some focus later, and he could feel the room and everything in it.

There was a table in front of him and counters along one wall. Something blocky sat in a corner, and the whole room smelled like Samael—but without the rainwater liquid body wash.

Myrina moved to one side, pulling something out of a closet and dragging it towards the table. It sloshed with each movement, and he just _knew_ it had to be the water tank she'd used to dunk him three days ago. She came back to him next, ripping off the blindfold and smirking as he winced away from the blinding light.

Before he could even _think_ about trying to escape, she dragged him to the tub and dropped him in. He flailed for a moment, trying to find the surface while actually pulling in some water because he was just so damn thirsty. Then, he was being tugged out by his hair, coughing and spluttering from the water that had gotten into his lungs rather than his stomach. He took a breath, and Myrina forced his head back down, holding him under this time. Now, he held his breath, making himself ignore the water even though he was dehydrated. His lungs were burning by the time he was pulled back out and tossed against the table.

He finally got to look around at the room, recognizing it as the hospital-esque room where Myrina had tortured him before. He then glanced at the items Myrina had set aside and shivered when he saw the scalpel. There was _no way_ he'd let her come _near_ him with that thing again.

Danny shakily got to his feet, glaring at the redhead, who just ignored him as she checked over her tools. The scalpel wasn't the only toy she'd picked. She turned, coming at Danny once more and grabbing his wrists.

He threw his foot into her stomach. The action caught her by surprise, but her grip had tightened at the shock rather than loosened, and now her nails bit into the tender flesh on his arms. He cried out, wincing and unable to focus on Myrina past the pain. For a moment, he was in the air before his back met the metal table and his wrists and ankles were locked in place once more. Myrina turned away from him to grab something from the counter.

The teen took that time to steel himself against whatever might come next. A prayer flew through his mind, begging that he could ignore the pain and survive another of these sessions.

By then, Myrina had come back by his side, tugging his shirt up to reveal the words that had now been carved twice into his torso. He tensed, knowing the pain was coming, and squeezed his eyes shut.

It was even worse than before. He felt like he was burning, thinking it was just due to his new hypersensitivity, but then he opened his eyes.

The knife glowed bright red at the edges, his skin bubbling and boiling where the blade touched. Then, he looked past Myrina and saw the torch she'd used to heat her knife. She'd already gotten bored with just cutting him.

He sent up another prayer, not sure if he wanted to survive this any more.

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

Alex blinked around at the room he'd woken up in. The walls were stone and the floor was dirt, and there wasn't a single window other than the slot in the door, which was currently shut. Alex stood, trying to figure a way out and thinking through the gadgets he had left. The ex-spy dug through his pockets, pulling out the MP3 player, PSP, and charger. He still had the wristwatch, and he'd stuck the gum back in his sneakers before getting hit—

His sneakers! He still had the panic button! He could send out an SOS to the others and they could get him out! ...Maybe this whole partner thing _had_ been a good idea….

He toed the button once, not hearing the door open. He was just about to tap it again when something was tossed into the room.

Alex froze, but whoever had thrown the thing in had left without noticing he'd woken. The spy sighed, then jumped in surprise when a groan came from the object that had landed near the cot.

A hand shakily caught the cot, dragging its owner up to a kneeling position, leaning back into the stone wall. Black hair fell into a young face, and Alex guessed that the boy was about his age. Alex watched as the boy swiped his hair away from de-glazing blue eyes, which he rubbed at, probably to hide his bloodshot sclera. Tremors ran through his body with each gasping breath, and Alex realized the other boy must have broken a rib at some point from the way he cradled his chest.

Then Alex placed the boy. It was Danny! He'd finally found Yassen's nephew! He moved to signal to the others that he'd found him—

But went still when Danny spoke up.

"Wh—What the h—_hell_ are y—_you_ doing here?" he hissed, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Alex ignored the tone, merely believing he was still hallucinating and seeing someone else. "I'm here to take you back to your uncle and the BAU."

Danny snorted at that. "Yeah, r—right. Y—You're just t—trying to see if I'll f—fall for the same t—trick twice. W—What's waiting for me th—this time when th—they catch me, huh? Another th—three days in s—solitary? More 's—sessions' with M—Myrina and Samael? Wh—What?"

Alex held up his hands, palms forward as he inched closer to the other teen. "Just calm down, okay?" he said softly. Danny tried to back further into the wall. "I don't think you realize what's really going on—"

"I kn—_know_ what's g—going on!" Danny snarled back, then raked a hand through his hair, wincing. "Dammit, why'd Y—Yassen lie t—to me?"

Alex's brow furrowed. "What did he lie about?"

An icy glare was shot at the spy. "T—Trusting _you_."

Brown eyes went wide as Alex processed that. "I—I think you've got me confused with—"

"I don't h—have _anything_ c—confused. I kn—know who you are, wh—what you've d—done, and who you're w—working for n—now."

"What do you _mean_, who I'm working for _now?_" Alex shook his head, trying to get back on topic. "Look, we've gotta go—"

"I'm n—not going _anywhere_ w—with _you!_" Danny yelled, forcing himself to stand. "You'd better tell Myrina and Samael that their little _scheme_ won't work twice. I know better now, so stay the hell _away_ from me, Rider!"

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A/N: Alrighty! Unfortunately, I have no internet here in Nebraska, so this chapter, while finished on the 8th, isn't going to be posted until today, the 16th. Yay. Anyways, read and review, please!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Wow, sorry it took so long to get another chapter up. While I'm only taking 12 credits this semester (parents say boost grades nao), the courses I'm taking are spread out across the week in such a way that I have barely any free time. Anyway, you're not here for excuses, you're here to read, so….

Playlist for this chapter: Three Days Grace's "It's All Over" and "Riot," Trapt's "Stand Up," and Thousand Foot Krutch's "Fire It Up."

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"Thank God for smart phones," Garcia mumbled to herself as she drove to the airport, avoiding using either South Arlington _or_ South Glebe. It was lucky for her that she didn't need to do any hacking today, so she would be able to survive with just her 4G iPhone.

Alex had just checked in again (still no news) as she pulled in to the airport's pick-up loop. She searched the arrivals from Gate B, but they hadn't come in yet, and she was forced to circle again.

This time, she spotted the five teens and pulled over, unlocking the sliding door so they could pile into the borrowed van. She grinned at them through the rearview mirror. "How was the flight?"

Groans were her only response from the younger four. Jazz ignored the question entirely.

"Any word?" she demanded.

Garcia's grin turned sad. "No joy, kiddos. But Alex is still looking, and he hasn't run into any trouble."

"How is he?" Sam asked, Danielle tossing her a glare for beating her to asking.

"I don't know if I should—"

"Garcia." Danielle now had everyone's attention. "We need to know. We're his _family_, Garcia. _Please._"

The tech analyst sighed. "...It's not good. They've got him locked up and drugged him."

All of the kids sucked in a breath at that, but Jazz was the one who spoke. "What did they give him?"

"I really don't think—"

"_Tell me_, Garcia. I know his medical history. I'll know how much we actually need to worry."

Garcia slowed to a stop at a light, biting her lip. "I hope you realize I could lose my job if I tell you this."

"You can say you were coerced," Tuck said, shrugging.

"Or threatened," Val added.

"Fine! They gave him something called quinuclidinyl benzilate, and when that wore off yesterday, they gave him a dose of DMT, whatever _that_ is."

The teens all turned to Jazz, completely lost. She merely furrowed her brow. "Neither of those would last very long in Danny's system, though," she murmured. When she saw the five confused looks she received, she blushed and added, "I listened in on Reid's phone calls with Mom and Dad."

Garcia nodded at that. "Reid mentioned that, too. But they apparently have modified versions of those drugs, designed to last for days in Danny."

"Wait," Jazz said as the light changed and Garcia got back up to speed. "You said DMT?"

"Um, yeah, why?"

"Th—That's a—a hallucinogen! H—He's—He can't have anything that can cause intense hallucinations!"

"Jazz?" Sam and Danielle both asked, each confused but for different reasons. After all, Sam had been around the last time Danny had hallucinated but hadn't seen the after math, and Danielle had never experienced it before.

Jazz turned to the two, simply saying, "He… _changes_ when he hallucinates."

Tuck and Val shared a glance and shrugged. Val hadn't been living in Amity Park at the time of Danny's last episode, and Tuck… well, Tuck had been in a do-everything-my-parents-say-to-get-on-their-good-side phase and not allowed to see Danny while he was "sick."

Danielle was the only one brave enough to ask. "What happened?"

Jazz winced, then sighed. "It happened _years_ ago." She looked between Sam and Tuck. "You two remember how often he used to get hurt, right?" At their nods, she continued. "Danny fell. It happened while some old friend of Mom's was over. He was the one who found Danny and took him to the hospital. Danny had broken his leg, and there was a gash on his side that got infected. The hospital put him on really strong pain killers, and one of the side effects was hallucinations.

"It seemed okay at first, but then Danny started saying things and blaming himself for everything. He told us we'd be better off without him there to mess things up, and the doctors had to put him under 24/7 care as a—a suicide threat."

The other teens gasped, unable to think of Danny acting that way. Garcia barely managed to stifle her sniffle.

"But then they took him off the painkillers, and he was fine again. Mom's friend was the first to get suspicious about what caused the whole thing, but he left before we'd found out for sure."

"He just _left?_" Sam snarled. "Without telling anyone his suspicions? What if something had happened to Danny and knowing what he did could've stopped it?"

Jazz shrugged. "He told Mom. She went to the doctors with Danny as soon as he was himself again. They ran some tests and verified that Danny and hallucinogens shouldn't mix."

"So… that could happen to him again?" Val asked cautiously, not so sure she wanted to see her friend like that.

Jazz's eyes turned hard. "Not if Yassen gets him out."

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Danny glared at the blond across from him. The stupid spy was checking the walls and floor of their cell, looking for weaknesses or secret passages or some other such thing. Danny wasn't buying the act.

The blond finally turned to face him. "Could you maybe help some?" he asked, sounding exasperated that Danny wasn't already joining in.

Danny's lip twitched up and his nose wrinkled in a snarl. "Why should I?" he demanded of the other teen. "I already _tried _to help you, and you went running off to tell the Drakes!"

"What?" the boy gaped, staring in shock at Danny. "I just bloody _got_ here! How could I have told anyone _anything?_"

Danny stood, leaning heavily against the wall to keep weight off his bleeding leg. "You're working for _them!_ How could you help them out after all they did to us?"

"I _told_ you, _I just got here!_ I haven't been helping _anyone!_ What the hell are you even _talking_ about?"

Danny lunged at the blond, but crumpled to the floor before he got there. The blond came over, trying to help Danny up, but he pulled away, refusing to take the other's hand. "_Leave me alone, Rider!_"

The blond frowned. "How'd you know my name? You said it before, too, but I never—"

"You _told_ me," Danny spat, "five _days_ ago, when I was first brought here."

Rider stared, thinking through what Danny just said. "Wait, so you saw someone who looked like me and claimed to be me when you first got here?"

"_Yes_," Danny snarled, "I saw _you._"

The blond flopped to the floor, sitting next to Danny but avoiding touching him, knowing it would set him off even worse. "Danny, your uncle helped me break into this place _yesterday_. I wasn't here before then."

Danny sneered. "Yeah, right. I know what I saw—!"

"You saw a _clone._"

All the anger slipped from Danny's face as he blinked at Rider—Alex. "I—_What?_"

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Hotch frowned as he checked his watch. "It's getting close to three hours," he murmured.

The whole group glanced at the shack, wishing Alex and Danny would magically appear there, grinning and both in one piece. No one showed up, and Morgan and Rossi joined Hotch in checking watches or cell phones.

They had slept in shifts the previous night, passing off the comm earring as needed just in case Alex did try to get in touch during the night. But like Ben said, the teen hadn't checked in until that morning.

Garcia had requested that they keep her updated via phone, saying she had some errands to run, and Jack hung back at the hotel, also keeping contact by phone. If Hotch and Rossi were suspicious of Garcia's impromptu leave of absence, they didn't show it. Instead, they helped keep watch, hoping that they'd hear from Alex soon and starting to plan what they'd do if he missed their check-in.

Reid found himself counting down the seconds in his head, feeling the others (and himself) tense up. This wasn't good, wasn't supposed to happen. Yassen said Alex could handle it, that he'd done this many times before! Why was there a problem _this_ time?

A soft thud sounded beside him, and he turned to see Yassen had dropped down from his perch in the trees.

The Russian placed a hand on Reid's shoulders. "This is normal for Alex," he stated. "He doesn't usually have to check in with a team."

Everyone turned to Ben, waiting for his confirmation.

He shrugged. "Alex has a bad history with partners, anyway."

"How so?" Prentiss asked.

"Well, either he's not given one, as is the case with most of his missions through MI6, or his partner is—well, I think I'm about the only one who's survived a mission with Alex."

"What happened to the others?"

"Well, a pair of CIA operatives got caught in a trap and killed when he was investigating Alexei Sarov, another CIA agent was shot during the Drevin case, his partner (and godfather) on the Snakehead mission turned out to be a traitor, and an operative from the Indian Secret Service was critically wounded if not killed in the mission after that. I was only in for the tail end of the Snakehead mission, and I got shot."

The BAU team all had looks of shock on their faces at the admission, but Yassen merely nodded, having known all this already due to his own sources.

Ben put a finger to his chin. "Actually, now that I think about it, I think Tamara Knight also lived after the Drevin case, but I don't know for sure. After all, immediately following that mission, Alex splashed down just off of Australia…."

"Splashed down?" Reid echoed. "As in, he'd been in _space?_"

Ben nodded. "He had to stop a bomb on a space hotel made by Drevin. If he hadn't, the flying hotel would've crashed into D.C., I believe."

"How'd he stop it?" Morgan wondered, trying to think of what type of bomb would be used on a space ship.

"He didn't," Yassen stated. At their confused looks, he added with a smirk, "He moved the bomb so instead of pushing the shuttle towards Earth, it merely disintegrated upon detonation."

"...Wow," Prentiss, JJ, and Reid gasped.

"So I'm sure he's fine no—" Ben cut himself off, raising a hand to the comm device in his ear.

"What is it?" Hotch and Rossi demanded simultaneously.

Ben waved at them to be quiet, pressing his hand firmer against his ear to block out all other noise but the message coming in from Alex.

The rest fidgeted nervously, except for Yassen, of course, who just leaned against a tree. Morgan kept glancing between Ben and the shack, judging how quickly they could get in. Hotch and Rossi quickly checked their guns, then stood, waiting for a response from Ben. Prentiss just stared Ben down, willing him to explain what he was hearing while JJ played with the holster of her gun, opening it and running a hand along the metal inside and closing it and opening it again.

Reid's hands twitched nervously, and he tried to focus on listing prime numbers in Latin, but he kept seeing the image of Danny from the video, of him twitching and the whimpers that managed to get past the gag. Who knows what else could've happened to him since then? Who knew how the DMT was effecting him?

What if—what if they were already too late?

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"So, you've got a clone, too?" Danny rolled his eyes. Sure, he knew it was possible, but come _on!_ Now _everyone_ he met had a clone?

"He's not really _my_ clone," Alex explained patiently. He remembered what the BAU had said about the clones Masters had made. "This doctor, Hugo Grief, made sixteen clones of himself, then set up a school in the Alps. The school was geared towards rich kids who were, ah, delinquents. Grief would have his clones study the kids until they knew all their mannerisms, then the clones would undergo intense, permanent plastic surgery and take the kids' places. The parents only noticed that their sons were behaving, and Grief had it set up that the lot of them would take over their parents' work and thus, eventually, the world."

"And you went undercover as some business mogul's delinquent son."

"Yep. Grief didn't find out until _after_ he'd 'wasted' one of his clones on me."

Danny's brow furrowed. "So, how'd he end up with Scorpia?"

Alex shook his head. "I have no idea. Last I saw him, he'd fallen into a burning building. I thought he'd died." He pursed his lips. "Obviously, I was wrong."

Danny's eyes narrowed. "And how do I know you're not him?"

Alex shrugged. "I'm not mad? Honestly, I'm not entirely sure. But Dr. Grief was South African and had a strong accent. His clones probably have that accent, too, so if you rile him, it should change. Maybe."

Danny nodded absently, storing that information for later, just in case. "And you said my uncle helped you break in?"

"Yes…?"

"Then where is he?" Danny pulled his knees up to his chin, wrapping his arms around his legs. His brain hissed at him, the images from before, of his friends and family blaming him, flying around, trying to pull him back down into the dark, silent room again, saying it was hisfaultallhisfault….

He whimpered, squeezing tighter on his legs as he shivered.

"Hey," Alex called quietly, "it's okay, they're just waiting for me to signal that I've found you."

Blue eyes snapped up to glare at the spy. "Then why _haven't _you?" he demanded thickly, fighting back the tears that tried to push their way forward.

Alex blushed. "I—I got a little distracted. I'll signal them no—"

Danny covered Alex's mouth with a hand, listening intently. Alex frowned and started to protest, but Danny just hissed, "_Shhh!_"

There it was.

Alex stopped fighting him, focusing on the noise that he could now hear, too.

There were footsteps, coming down the hall. Each thudding step brought the person outside closer to their cell.

Alex heard another hiss, and it took him a moment to realize Danny was whispering at him.

"They need to believe I don't trust you," the injured boy breathed. Alex had to strain to hear him at all. "Otherwise, they'll separate us, and it'll be impossible for us to get out."

Something wet was soaking into Alex's shirt, on the side Danny was leaning against. The spy glanced down, seeing red. His eyes went wide, and he tried to tell Danny what he'd seen, but the other boy just shook his head.

"I'll be fine. The problem will be after we're out of here and my powers come back. My body will try to heal itself, but that requires a certain amount of energy and nutrients, and I haven't eaten in almost a week. I'll be able to delay it a little bit, but then my body will use up whatever it can to heal me. _That's_ when you'll need to worry. For now, I'll be fine."

Then Danny released Alex, shoving him to the other side of the cell and scowling as the door burst open and Samael came in.

There was a short moment, right after Samael grabbed Danny, where the two teens' eyes met. They each gave a slight nod.

Then Danny was gone.

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It was a quick session this time. Myrina checked over the burned cuts on his chest, then hung him by his wrists to have access to his back. He couldn't see her heat the blade this time, but that didn't keep him from crying out when his skin bubbled and boiled from the heated metal. His eyes squeezed shut against the pain, and his world narrowed down to smells and pressure.

The air in front of him parted, making room for the bleach-and-antiseptic-and-rain-water that stifled the copper-and-rotten-meat. Something fleshy and smooth covered his mouth to silence his screams, and his eyes blinked open weakly.

Samael stood before him, something metal—iron, his nose amended—in his other hand.

Danny just waited, wincing with each bite from the burning blade that was etching those words deeper into his back. He knew if he just waited, Samael would tell him everything he'd need to know about what was coming.

Sure enough, Samael released his hold on Danny's mouth and held up the iron cylinder.

It was a bullet.

Samael turned, grabbing something from the table as he spoke. "We're going to play a game today, nephew," he declared. His sister continued her meticulous job of tracing the words on Danny's back. "I don't know if you've ever played this game before, but it _does_ come from your uncle's homeland. It's even become quite popular across the world." He turned back around as he slid the bullet into a chamber on the fancy revolver he'd grabbed. He shoved the chamber back in, then spun it. "It's called Russian Roulette."

Danny flinched as the barrel of the gun was brought to rest on his forehead.

"Tell me, nephew, how does it feel knowing your friends and family are all dead because of you?"

Danny's eyes went wide before he leveled a glare at Samael. "They're not dead!"

_CLICK!_

The sound made Danny wince, then breathe a sigh of relief when he realized the bullet wasn't in that chamber. He was safe, for now.

"Vlad told us his whole plan, nephew. He killed your friends and family as soon as he had what he needed to clone them."

"No he didn't!"

_CLICK!_

Another flinch, another sigh. A new chamber rotated into place.

"The best part is, the clones even fooled _you!_ You honestly can't _tell_ that they're not really your loved ones!"

"Because they _are!_"

_CLICK!_

Danny's heart was pounding, his brain finally catching up and realizing his odds of "winning" this little "game" were getting worse with each round.

"Vlad gave those clones their memories," Samael hissed. "Your little _test_ was pointless! All the clones _knew_ what answers to give! And you were convinced. They _tricked_ you! _They're not real!_"

Danny strained against his restraints, yelling back, "_Yes they are!_"

_CLICK!_

The sound barely even registered with Danny. He was nearly hyperventilating now, shaking his head under the gun and mumbling, "They're not clones, they're real, they have to be real…."

"But they're _not_, Danny." The sudden use of his name threw the teen off, making him unable to prevent the next words from hitting him. _Hard._ "Vlad even _told_ you as much, but you just wanted to _believe_ you'd saved them _so bad_, you _couldn't_ let yourself believe they'd died. And even if there _is_ a chance they're _not_ clones, you'll _never_ be able to prove it! All the clones know the _same things_ your friends and family know, they _know_ how to answer your questions! You'll spend the _rest of your life_ wondering whether they were replaced or not! But you'll _never_ be able to trust them again, because what if they _are_ Vlad's clones? You'd just be _giving_ them everything they'd need to _finish_ Vlad's plan to _destroy you!_"

"They're—they're…." Danny's body slumped, eyes dulling. "They—They _can't_ be clones…."

_CLICK!_

The gun pressed harder into Danny's temple as he looked up at Samael.

The man was smirking, knowing as Danny now did that this was the last chamber. It _had_ to contain the bullet. Now, it was just a question of _when_ Samael would pull the trigger.

But suddenly, Danny didn't care about that. After all, what was the point, if he'd just be sent back to those clones? Samael was right, even if they _were_ his friends and family, he'd _never_ be able to trust them. They could just be biding their time until they'd finish what Vlad had started.

His normally bright, blue eyes had faded to a dead, dull steel. "...They're not real…."

_BANG!_

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Ben finally brought his hand down from his ear. Immediately, the rest crowded around him.

He sighed. "We got an update from Alex."

Hotch and Rossi glared, Hotch stating, "We _know_. What did he say?"

"He found Danny."

Reid, JJ, and Prentiss grinned. "Then let's go get him!" Reid declared, ready to head into the shack.

"That's not all he said."

Reid turned back around, the smiles falling from his, JJ's, and Prentiss' faces. "Wh—What?"

"What else?" Yassen demanded.

Ben locked eyes with the Russian. "They're in trouble."

And that's when the shack blew up.

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Danny was thrown back into the cell with Alex. Samael had fired the bullet into the wall, just an inch from Danny's face. By then, Myrina had finished, and the two easily released Danny from his bonds and dragged him back to the small cell.

As soon as the door closed, Alex rushed over, checking him for new injuries. Blood was now soaking into both sides of his Ruski Rock shirt, and a bright purple bruise stood out on his pale forehead. "A—Are you alright?" he asked cautiously.

Danny glared at him.

Alex blushed. "Sorry, had to ask." He glanced around, sighing angrily. "So, how do we get out of here?"

"Help m—me up," Danny mumbled, reaching out a hand.

Alex grabbed his arm, steadying him as he forced himself to his feet. Danny nodded at the door, and the two stumbled towards it, pausing along the way to pick up the iPod Danny had dropped four days ago when he'd first been taken by Myrina.

If Alex was confused by that quick pit stop, he didn't show it. Instead, he just made sure Danny was able to get back up, then helped him hobble to the door.

Once beside it, Danny shook his arm free and focused on the door knob. He shook it, nodding when he found it to be locked.

"So, now what?" Alex asked, running through his mental list of what gadgets he had left. He'd really rather not use the exploding gum yet, but if they had to—

Danny picked at one of his sleeves, pulling at a string. Alex's brow furrowed, he about to ask how that'd help anything.

But then he saw the metal pieces hidden in the hem. He blinked in surprise as Danny puled a few thin wires out, immediately forcing them into the lock and jimmying it open. After just a moment, he pushed open the door and turned, smirking, to Alex.

"After you."

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A/N: What, you thought I was done torturing Danny? Of course not. ;) Anyway, we're finally seeing Danny's gadgets put to use, yay! And yes, the worst part of all will come just when they think they're free. There's gotta be _some_ downside to suddenly getting his powers back, after all.

And what is _with_ me always posting after midnight (local time)? I mean, seriously.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Be happy, you only had a short wait for this one.

Playlist for this chapter: "Side of a Bullet" by Nickelback, "Getting Away With Murder" by Papa Roach, "Frontline" by Pillar, "Sound of Madness" by Shinedown, and "Falling into Black" by Skillet.

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There was a long moment (that seemed like hours but was really about ten seconds) where everyone simply stared at the rubble that had once been Scorpia's hideout's entrance. Then, Ben cursed loudly and ran towards the destruction, pulling out his cell phone. "One of you, call Garcia and Jack!" he yelled over his shoulder.

Hotch flipped open his own phone, nodding for the rest to follow the spy and see what they could help with. "Garcia," he was saying as they raced over, "we've got an update…."

Morgan and Yassen met up with Ben first, quickly checking over the damage done to the tiny building. Prentiss, JJ, and Rossi slowed to a stop right after them, and Reid came up last, panting a bit.

The shack was nothing more than a hunk of twisted metal at this point. Ben was checking the temperature of the rubble, letting his hand hover a few inches above it. He sighed. "No fire raging inside, so it must've been a weaker explosive. It probably only did so much damage to the shack because it was placed right up against it."

"Alex?" Yassen asked simply.

Ben smirked. "Oh, yeah. Kid loves his explosives, and Smithers knows it. This was probably just a distraction, though." Ben slid up the antenna on his phone, adding, "We'll be running into the majority of 'em. You ready?"

The BAU team blinked, not quite sure what he was about to do but knowing it'd get them inside. Rather than ask, they simply all pulled their guns from their holsters and nodded the affirmative.

Ben nodded back, saying, "Then let's get to it." He pressed 9-9-9 on his phone, then held down the call button.

A red beam flew from the antenna, slicing through the metal like a bullet through paper. Within a minute, Ben was kicking the large square of separated metal out of place, leaving a new entrance for the group to use.

The group waited a moment for Hotch to catch up and ready his gun, then they dropped in, one at a time, to the hideout. Surprisingly, it took several minutes before they ran into anyone else, and each grunt they passed was easy enough to take down.

Then, they heard it.

_**BANG!**_

"Dammit," Ben hissed, taking off down the hall. The others rushed to catch up, only to find his gun across the room and him fighting off the grunt who'd disarmed him.

Immediately, the whole of the BAU was aiming at them. Yassen shook his head. "There's no clear shot," he stated, which Morgan and Hotch had just noticed.

But then Ben twitched his foot and a three-inch blade flung out from the sole of his boot. One good kick with the now-deadly shoe and the goon dropped. Ben slid the blade back into his boot, grabbed his gun, then nodded down the hall. "Let's keep moving."

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"Yassen gave me this shirt," Danny finally explained after a few minutes of silent wandering.

Alex nodded. "I had a feeling. What else did he give you?"

Danny held up the iPod. "This, and my choker." He ran a hand over it, delicately avoiding the area where the Russian letters were.

Alex glanced at the two, knowing they were gadgets. "You're not going to tell me what they do, are you?"

Danny shrugged. "I'm sure you'll find out by the time we get outta here."

Alex nodded absently, then blinked. "Oh, crap! I forgot to check in!"

Danny blinked at him. "You… what?"

"I'm in contact with the BAU team and your uncle through a panic button in my sneakers. I can let them know I found you!"

Danny's eyes widened at that. "Then do i—_Watch out!_"

Alex spun, lashing out in a quick roundhouse kick. The goon behind him crumpled, and the two teens took off down the hall as an alarm went off.

"I think they… know we're… missing," Danny panted, keeping up even though he was still bleeding.

Alex nodded. "We'll have to set up a distraction so we can get out. Do you know where the exit is?"

"Yeah, we're headed… away from it." Danny thumbed over his shoulder to indicate the correct direction.

Alex frowned. "Odd, I came in through the shack this way."

"Two… entrances?"

"Guess so. We'll set up a distraction near the shack entrance, then head the other way so I can let the others know I found you."

Danny nodded, and they slowed to a stop so Alex could pluck the gum from the bottom of his shoe. He shoved it onto a wall, then directed Danny to lead the way.

The two wove through the complex, avoiding the hall to their cell and fighting off the few guards they ran into. Finally, Danny motioned for them to duck into an alcove.

"It's… just around the corner," Danny stated.

Alex nodded, then toed the button of his shoe five times. Then, he grinned at Danny. "Time for our distraction." He reached for the tongue of his left shoe and poked at it.

_**BOOM!**_

Danny had jumped at the noise, then laughed. "Exploding gum," he realized. "Nice!"

"Now, let's get outta—"

A gun cocked behind them, and the two turned to see another Alex standing there, aiming at them.

Danny glanced between the two, seeing how they focused on each other and realizing there really wasn't a good way to tell them apart without the gun. They were even wearing the same clothes! With their attention off of him, though, he was able to reach into his pocket and pull out the iPod, pointing the top at the Alex with the gun and jabbing at the menu and pause buttons simultaneously.

Two cords shot out of the top, latching onto Alex-with-the-gun and zapping him into unconsciousness. Danny grabbed the gun, then tugged conscious-Alex towards the exit.

Once outside, Alex gaped at him. "I am _never_ ticking you off, that's for sure! What can the choker do, shoot bullets?"

Danny smirked. "Not quite. But we need another distraction so they don't catch up with us."

"Leave that to me." Alex moved towards the door, plugging the PSP charger into an outlet. The building went dark. "Alright, let's get—"

Danny blinked at the blur that had run into Alex and tackled him. For a long time, he just stared, unable to comprehend what had happened. Then, his brain snapped into action.

The two Alexes were fighting, punching and kicking at each other as they rolled on the ground. Danny watched, trying to figure out which Alex was the real one—the _good_ one—and failing. They had rolled so many times, he couldn't keep track of which was which.

He glanced at the gun in his hand, raising it into the air and firing off a shot.

_**BANG!**_

The two froze, then shoved away from each other and turned to face him. Both registered the gun, and, with a glare at the other, they each grinned at him.

"Danny!" both began, tossing another glare at their double.

He cut them off, leveling the gun and switching his aim between the two as he spoke, his eyes narrowing. "How do I know which of you's Alex?"

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Garcia hung up her phone, glancing back at the teens in her borrowed van.

Jazz easily recognized the look. "What happened?"

"...We heard back from Alex," Garcia said, forcing a smile that looked more like a grimace.

"What'd he say?" Sam asked anxiously.

"He found Danny."

As the three sixteen-year-olds cheered over the news, the two Fenton girls frowned.

"What _else_ did he say?" Danielle demanded, crossing her arms. The cheering died down at that.

"...They've got trouble."

A flash of light blared through the car as Danielle transformed. "Where are they?"

"Woah! What do you think you're doing?" Garcia yelped, surprised by the light and trying to straighten out the van.

"I'm going to help my brother!"

Only Jazz's hand on her arm stopped Danielle from flying off. "What kind of trouble?" Jazz asked.

Garcia winced, not wanting to answer that, but Jazz just kept staring her down. "Okay, _fine!_ The… entrance to the place… blew up while—while they were still inside."

"_WHAT?_" Danielle and Sam shrieked.

Jazz nodded. "If they were still inside, it was probably them who blew it up."

The rest turned to stare at her. "Why?"

She smirked. "Distraction. In fact, they probably found a second exit and used it while blowing up the first."

Val caught on first. "Everyone would rush to check on the explosion. The second exit would be deserted!"

Jazz grinned. "All they'll need to do is meet up with the rest of the rescue crew and they'll be on their way home."

Garcia smiled back at them. "Let's pick up Alex's guardian, Jack Starbright, then. She'll probably want to hear that the boys'll be back home soon."

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One Alex shrugged, and the other gaped at the gun. "_Seriously?_"

Danny's aim stayed on the one that spoke. "I want you both to answer a question, one at a time."

The two nodded. Danny switched his aim a few times while thinking over what to ask. Finally, he leveled the gun at one of them. "How'd you cause the blackout?"

Now the Alex he was targeting shrugged while the other stayed silent. "I used a gadget Smithers gave me. Myrina and Samael didn't think to check me for gadgets."

Danny nodded, turning the barrel of the gun on the silent Alex. "Anything you can add to convince me?"

This Alex met his eyes. "It was a PSP. More specifically, the charger."

_**BANG!**_

Both Alexes winced, the one who'd just finished speaking believing he'd been shot and the other knowing he had been. Danny's aim had changed as his finger tightened on the trigger. One Alex slumped, clutching at his stomach while the other blinked at Danny.

"How—?"

Danny shrugged. "He wasn't specific enough. You were." He moved over to the Alex that was bleeding out and nudged him with his foot. "Why did you join Scorpia?"

Hard brown eyes met Danny's. "I _didn't_. You shot the _wrong person!_ Once again, you've let the real one die and be replaced by a _clone!_"

Danny stiffened. "Shut up."

"There's… no way… you'll _ever_… know for sure," the dying Alex panted. "You'd… better _hope_… you chose right… and not… just… with us…."

Danny glared down at him, finger still on the trigger. "_Shut up._"

"He… could've… seen the… PSP… on his way… out. That's… not a… _guarantee_… and now… you're… a killer."

"_Shut up!_" Danny was shaking, but the hand holding the gun was steady.

"What're… they gonna… think," the teen was murmuring now, too quiet for anyone but Danny to hear, "when they… find out? Then… again… they might not… _care_, being… clones. And… won't Yassen… be _proud_… to know… you… followed… in his… footsteps…."

"_SHUT UP!_"

_**BANG!**_

Danny dropped the gun, instead threading his hands into his hair and pulling, shaking his head to try to forget what had been said. He squeezed his eyes shut, copper overtaking his mind as the scent surrounded him.

The pressure behind him changed, and within a second, he had the gun in his hand, cocked and aimed blindly behind him at the threat.

"...He's right, you know," Danny mumbled after about five minutes of tense silence.

"They're not clones, Da—"

"About you." Danny turned to face the still-living Alex, aim not wavering. "You could've seen the PSP before you tackled him."

Alex nodded. "I could've. But I didn't."

"How can I trust that? I've already made that mistake once!"

"Think of what Yassen's told you about me! There has to be _something_ in that that will prove who I am!"

Danny thought back, then blinked, refocusing his gaze on Alex. "Show me where you were shot."

Alex stared for a long moment, then nodded. He tugged at the collar of his T-shirt, pulling it down far enough for Danny to study the pockmark under his shoulder. "I got lucky," Alex explained when he saw Danny's incredulous look. Obviously, Yassen didn't give the boy the full story. "I was hit right as I stepped off the curb. If I'd still been on the sidewalk, it would've killed me."

"Why'd you get shot?" This sounded more like it was asked out of curiosity rather than suspicion.

Alex shrugged, releasing his hold on the shirt to cover the scar once more. "I did what only one other person had done before. I ruined one of Scorpia's plans."

Danny grinned sadly. "You know who the other person was? My uncle's mentor, Hunter."

Alex glanced over at Danny realizing that was all Danny knew of the man. "His real name was John."

Danny took a moment to let that sink in. "John…. Y'know, Yassen had Mom use his name for my middle name."

"Same."

The younger boy blinked at the blond. "What?"

"I was named after him, too. Alex John Rider."

Danny's brow furrowed. "But how—? _Why—?_"

"Because he was my dad."

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

It only took a few minutes and a second gunshot before the rescue team ran into a new problem. A whooshing sound whistled past, followed closely by a hiss, curse, and thud. They spun to see that the object that had been thrown (a knife, now buried deep into a wall) had sliced Morgan's arm pretty good. Everyone immediately went into high alert, each picking a direction to aim their guns.

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence.

_**BANG!**_

The sound came from far off but was echoed almost instantaneously as Yassen fired. Another turn in unison revealed a body, slumped against a side wall. Yassen still had his gun trained on her.

She glanced up, dulling gray eyes peeking through long red hair. A fanged smirk flashed up at them. "Too… late," she gasped. "Too late to… save the nephew…. Samael… will finish… it…." Then her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she went limp.

"What did she mean?" Hotch demanded.

"We need to find Danny and Alex," was all Yassen said in reply, "_now._"

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"He's… your—?"

"My dad," Alex answered, unable to help but grin at Danny's slack-jawed expression.

"Yassen never…. _That's_ why he said to trust you…."

"If it's any consolation, he didn't tell me he knew my father until his death—er, _fake_ death."

Danny nodded, eyes starting to look a little glassy. "Th—That sounds… l—like him…."

Alex's brow furrowed. "Are you alright? I didn't mean to bring up any—"

"N—Not… th—that!" Danny gasped, clutching at his sides and slumping to his knees.

"Then—?" Alex's eyes went wide. "Oh. _Oh!_ Oh, God, your powers are coming back, aren't they?"

Danny could only nod, struggling just to breathe.

"What can I do?"

In response, Danny jabbed at Alex's sneaker.

Alex blinked, then nodded. "I'll signal the others." He pulled the PSP out of his pocket and tapped at the panic button a few times.

The two waited a few minutes, but there was no response.

Alex bit his lip, worrying that something had happened to Ben. Then, he was pulled out of that thought as Danny hissed, glaring back towards the hideout. Alex turned slowly, unsure what the other boy was seeing—

Then, he lifted his hands, palms forward, when he saw the platinum-blond approaching, a revolver leveled at the two boys.

"W—What the… the _hell_ d—do _y—you_ want?" Danny stuttered, still glaring.

"Your uncle _shot_ her!" Samael screeched, wide eyes glinting strangely.

"Good f—for him," Danny snarled back. He was raising a hand, reaching up to rub his throat. His fingers brushed across the letters on his choker.

"Your _uncle_ shot my _sister!_" Samael's aim swung to Danny. "Now, _I'm_ gonna shoot _you_."

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"What was she talking about, Yassen?" Hotch demanded as they rushed down the halls.

"Her brother must be with Danny and Alex," Yassen replied. "And if he knows she's dead, we've got a problem."

"How so?" Rossi asked.

"He's only sane when she's around. She's a psychopath to begin with, but being around and helping her forces Samael to keep himself together. If she's gone—"

"He'll take over her role as psychopath," Reid finished, catching on. "Where would they be?"

Yassen shook his head. "I don't—"

"Crap," Ben hissed, stopping to lean against a wall for cover while raising a hand to his ear. "Alex is trying to get in touch again. He's asking for a response."

Hotch shook his head. "Garcia's still out on her errands. She won't be able to respond."

Ben nodded. "We'll just have to hurry, then." He pushed off the wall, and they took off once more.

A few minutes later, and they finally saw the other exit before them. They paused, looking around for any sign of the two teens.

"There!" Ben called, pointing at the charger plugged into the wall.

"So _that's_ why the power's out…." JJ realized.

"Alright, they definitely came through—"

_**BANG!**_

_**BOOM!**_

Morgan swore, then turned to Ben. "How many explosives did that Smithers guy give Alex?"

Ben shook his head, paling. "Only the one. That can't've—"

"It wasn't," Yassen stated. "That one was Danny's." He went through the door, angling towards the explosion.

Hotch turned to Reid, an eyebrow raised. "So, what exactly _were_ those 'keepsakes' Yassen gave him?"

Reid just shook his head, eyes wide.

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

Danny chuckled as he discretely popped open the hidden panel on his choker and pulled out the dime-shaped device inside, all while still appearing to rub his sore throat. he could feel the pulse from the device and kept count in his head. "My—Myrina's _really_ dead, then, huh?"

"Shut up!" Samael yelled, gun shaking slightly in his anger.

Danny slid the panel shut, removing his hand and hiding the small device with a little invisibility. He winced as he felt another attack at his energy reserves for that use. "I had a feeling you'd go crazy without her," he continued, still keeping track of the faint beats. "It was a balancing act with you two, wasn't it? A certain amount of insanity was required, so you had to stay sane since she met that requirement. but now, she's gone, and you have to take over as psycho."

He cocked his gun, but Danny was betting it only had a single bullet like earlier. "Shut. Up."

"No. You told me already, you don't do the blood and guts stuff. You're _dignified_, you don't leave any marks besides from your little needles. You won't kill _either_ of us. You _can't!_"

Danny flung the device as Samael's finger tightened on the trigger. He was knocked sideways as the _**BANG!**_ echoed around them, followed closely by the _**BOOM!**_ of the bomb going off.

Danny glanced up to see nothing left of the man who'd drugged him. He grinned weakly at that, murmuring, "Good riddance." Then, he looked to see what had knocked him over and gasped.

Alex was laying on his side, gripping his arm as it bled from the small bullet hole now lodged right above the elbow. Danny tried to move to check it, but a sharp pain lanced through his body, and he collapsed as well.

Footsteps thudded towards them, and Danny glanced up to see Yassen kneel between them. "What's wrong, Daniil? I see Alex's bullet wound, and we'll work on that in a moment, but I need to know how threatening your own injuries are."

"Not… the in—_injuries_… have to… w—worry 'bout…." Danny replied, squeezing his eyes shut.

More footsteps came over, and another person knelt beside Yassen. "Danny, what have you had to eat while here?" Reid asked.

"N—Noth—thing. Powers sh—shorted, f—four d—days 'go…."

"And now they're coming back," Reid finished, getting a weak nod from Danny. "Alright, hold on a few minutes, Hotch called an ambulance when we heard the bomb go off. We'll get you on an IV, and get Alex's GSW patched up. You'll both be fine."

Danny blinked open his eyes, shifting his gaze from Reid's reassuring face to his uncle's ever-so-slightly relieved one. "Hey, _dyadya?_"

"_Da_, Daniil?"

Danny grinned weakly. "Welcome home."

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A/N: Okay, hope you all enjoyed, there's only two chapters of this left. Please read and review.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Hey guys. Penultimate chapter for y'all. I'll hopefully have a few more chapters of _Falling Is Easy_ coming out soon, along with the next chapter of _The Narrow Road_, so watch for those.

Playlist for this chapter: "Broken Man" by Boys Like Girls, "Give Me a Sign" and "What Lies Beneath" by Breaking Benjamin, and "This Is Letting Go" by Rise Against.

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There was a mob in the hospital's waiting room. Luckily for the doctors and nurses on staff, this mob was of the worried sort rather than the more common angry variety.

They were a rather mismatched group, honestly. Seven of them were FBI agents (one of whom had just gotten stitched up himself), two were foreigners (not even from the same country!), five were teenagers (and even _they_ were mismatched, an athlete, bookworm, tech geek, goth, and tomboy), and the last was a young woman whom was American but had lived in England for most of the last decade. All fifteen were waiting for news on two teen boys that had just been brought in.

The boys themselves were unusual. One was in for a GSW to the arm, but not much else was wrong with him besides a very mild concussion from getting knocked out. He'd already been moved into a room, head bandaged and arm sporting twelve new stitches.

It was the other boy that they were all waiting on. He'd come in with a plethora of ailments, from cuts and burns to one of the strangest cases of starvation the hospital staff had ever seen. From what they'd been told by the group waiting, the teen had gone missing less than a week ago, in perfect health, and now, after only five days without food, his body had begun to break down what little fat storage he had and had even started on muscle mass before they got him set up to an IV. Then, they were shocked when the IV bag was empty within an hour and had to be replaced every half hour for the next three hours.

Their other main concerns were his broken arm and the burnt cuts on his chest and back. They had to rebreak the bone in order to properly set his arm, and they couldn't even deaden the pain with medicine, since the teen refused to take any. He even tried to protest the IV until they assured him it was only saline. But, they put his arm in a cast and moved on to his torso. There wasn't much else they could do but wrap the wounds after washing off the dried blood. The burns prevented them from being able to stitch them up, but any salve they would have used could infect the cuts. So they coated the whole area with antibiotic and covered it. Then they moved him to stay in the other boy's room.

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"...You shouldn't've pushed me."

Danny's statement broke the almost ten-minute silence that had fallen since he'd been moved in.

Alex shrugged, wincing as the movement jostled his arm.

"You shouldn't have," Danny reiterated, forcing himself up on his good arm to better see Alex.

"But I did," Alex replied. "He would've killed you, Danny. And I promised Yassen I'd bring you back."

Danny flopped back down. "...Who's to say they _want_ me back?"

Now, Alex pushed himself up. "What are you _talking_ about? Of _course_ they want you back!"

"They _would_…. If they were _real_…."

Alex's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Danny locked eyes with the spy. "They're clones. All of them were replaced by clones."

Brown eyes went wide. "Y—You can't _possibly_ think—!"

"Can't I?"

"Isn't there some way to test them, like you did to me and—?"

Danny shook his head. "He wasn't cloned from you. And I _did_ test them."

"Did they fail?"

There was a long pause, then, "...No."

"Then they're real."

"No," Danny immediately denied, "it just means he gave the clones their memories."

There was another pause as Alex tried to find any trace of doubt in Danny's face. He found none. "...So find another way to prove it's them."

Wide, sad blue eyes glanced up at Alex. "But, how?"

Alex bit his lip, then slowly shook his head. "That's one you'll have to figure out on your own, mate."

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By the time the teens were settled in their room, visiting hours were over, and not even federal badges were convincing the nurses to look the other way. Instead, the worried-and-now-slightly-annoyed mob went back home, the FBI agents opening their homes to the rest. The group shared some take-out at one of Morgan's houses, then crashed.

Except for a few.

Danielle and Jazz couldn't sleep, Yassen had never kept normal hours, and Reid… well, Reid managed to get his hands on more coffee. But whatever the reason, the four found themselves sitting around the coffee table, staring blankly. They sat there for a long time, not moving, not speaking, just staring.

"...It's all gonna change, isn't it?" Danielle whispered almost an hour later. "Danny's gonna change."

Jazz put an arm around the younger girl, pulling her close in a side-hug. "Yeah," she murmured, "he'll change. But he'll still be Danny."

Reid nodded at that. "He'll just need all of us to help him through it."

Yassen looked around at the other three, then stood. "We should get to bed. Visiting hours begin at eight tomorrow." He left, silent and graceful as he snuck past the sleeping guests.

Jazz glanced over at Reid. "How was Danny dealing _before_ all this?"

Reid sighed, knowing this had been coming. "He _was_ getting better…."

"But?"

"But he'd begun to develop an aversion to touch. He explained it to me, quickly, just before he left. He said it wasn't as bad with us because all we'd done was help him, and he was still in shock around you all, but he was worried he… well, he wasn't sure if he'd be okay around Yassen, and that upset him."

Jazz nodded, staring off into space again. "And this probably just made it worse, didn't it?"

"Most likely. We also don't know what all was done to him, so…."

"We don't know how that will effect him."

The three lapsed into another long silence.

"So, what can we do?" Once again, it was Danielle who broke the silence.

Reid sighed heavily. "All we can do is wait."

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Neither Alex nor Danny could sleep much that night. Instead, they stayed up, swapping stories and complaining about previous hospital stays. Alex ended up winning that round of 'Which Was Worse?' with his experience after being shot.

"You _seriously_ took on three terrorists with a hole in your shoulder?" Danny gasped, chuckling too hard to breathe properly.

"I didn't know they were terrorists at the time! ...I thought they were just kidnappers…."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Right, 'cause _everyone_ chases down kidnappers when they see them…."

"Hey, would _you_ have done any different?"

"...No…."

Alex crossed his arms, a smug grin on his face. "That's what I thought."

There was another drawn-out silence. Danny picked at his sheets, avoiding Alex's gaze. Then, "H—How do you do it?"

Alex's brow furrowed. "Do what?"

Blue eyes peeked through black bangs. Danny bit his lip, then spoke. "How—How do you keep going? A—After a case, I mean?"

Alex stared for a long moment, then nodded and rolled out of bed. He moved over towards Danny's bed, sitting down in the chair next to him. "I'm not gonna lie to you, Danny. It's going to be hard. But you… you just need to find someone you can talk to, someone you can trust."

Danny gave a sort of half-chuckle, a choked-off sound that nearly made Alex wince. The younger boy shook his head. "There's no one. None of them are real."

"Not even the BAU? Or your uncle?"

"I—I can't. I can't lay all this on them."

"Alright, so tell me."

Danny's eyes went wide. "W—_What?_"

"You can tell me. You've already found a way to prove I'm really me, and I can at least partially relate to what you're going through."

"But—you're going back to England soon."

Alex shrugged. "I've got a phone. You can call me."

There was another long moment of silence, then, "W—Who do you have, t—to talk to, I mean?"

The blond flashed a small smile. "I've got Jack. And my friend Sabina. She actually lives in San Francisco."

Danny nodded absently.

"And, now I'll have you, too."

The younger boy blinked once more at the blond, who smirked.

"Like I said, talk to someone you trust. And if you trust them, they should trust you, too, right?"

The two merely sat for several minutes, the pause for once comfortable.

"...Thanks, Alex."

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

They were allowed visitors in the morning. The BAU came in first, quickly taking statements before they socialized. With their work out of the way, they quickly made sure the two were okay and comfortable. It took a bit more reassuring to convince Reid and Garcia than it did for the others, but the group eventually made their way out to allow the rest their time.

Ben, Jack, and Yassen were next, the first two checking over Alex while the latter merely nodded his thanks to the blond before sitting down by Danny and murmuring something in Russian. The two spoke quietly in the foreign tongue for the duration of their visit.

The doctor cleared Alex to leave with Ben and Jack, who were eager to head back to England as soon as possible. But as Alex stood to leave, he found himself conflicted, half wanting to get home and half wanting to stay behind and make sure Danny was okay. He glanced over at Danny, receiving a small smirk as the boy jerked his head towards the door. Alex got the message and headed out, giving Danny a smile of his own and tossing him a balled-up piece of paper.

Yassen smirked at Danny's shocked look as the door closed. "What's it say?" he asked.

Danny smoothed out the page, smiling as he read the message inside. "'If you want to talk, call me.' Then it gives a number."

"Will you be calling him?"

"I think I will…."

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

Yassen was still in the room when the five Amity Parkers came in. Jazz gave her uncle a quick smile and hug before introducing the others.

There was a long moment where Danny was overcome by the scents and feel of his friends in a way he never had before. He'd gotten used to Alex's mixed scent of a soccer field and the leather of the balls used in said sport, along with the powerful, almost explosive feel surrounding the blond like an aura. He'd even grown accustomed to the smells of his uncle (gunpowder and metal and a faint coppery scent he knew to be blood) and found it amusing that he felt like a cat to him. Though, the latter made sense, given Yassen's tendency to stay calm and cool in all situations and move with the grace of a feline.

But it was still highly unusual to be sensing so much about his friends and sisters. After all, he knew about what each of them liked, but to actually _smell_ and _feel_ those things? For instance, Jazz smelled like paper and ink with the slightest hint of ectoplasm, no doubt due to the exposure to their parents' lab. Add that to the hushed feel around her, and she came across as a library to Danny.

The rest had their own specific smells and feels as well. Tucker smelled like ozone and metal, and he almost seemed to crackle in sync with the gadgets he carried. Valerie also smelled of metal, along with gunpowder and ectoplasm from ghost hunting. Her feel was more like a runner. She felt fast and strong, athletic, and constantly doing something. Danielle felt on the move, too, but more like a roamer or nomad than an athlete. She had the same ectoplasm as Val and Jazz but stronger due to it flowing through her body, as well as a shifting sort of smell that Danny decided must have come from her travels.

Finally, Sam. Sam was a breath of fresh air—literally. Danny immediately recognized her scent as that after-a-rainstorm fresh smell mixed with pollen, dirt, dew, and the flowers that she grew in her green house. Even as overwhelming as his senses were now getting, Danny knew Sam would, as always, be the exception. In fact, her scent alone simply strengthened his ghostly obsession with her. But then he felt her aura. She felt like freedom, like the wind in his hair when he flew. For all her pessimism and Gothic attitude and looks, she felt surprisingly bright and sunny. It was so… refreshing, just being _around_ her, especially after everything that had happened with Scorpia and the Drakes.

Then he realized he'd completely zoned out while they'd been speaking to him.

"—you like Lancer does, but even _Dash_ misses you," Danielle was saying. "I think they're really close to letting you back, maybe even in time for when school starts?"

"Mmm," Danny mumbled, not able to give a real response to that, mostly because he really didn't believe it at all.

But they were all smiling at him, waiting for the words to "sink in" and make him excited and anxious to return to the city that had turned on him. So he gave them a fake smile, hiding behind a grimace they attributed to physical pain rather than emotional. After all, they hadn't been there when the town found out about him. They didn't know.

Yassen saw straight through it, though. The man gave the teens one of his signature half-smiles, saying, "Daniil needs his rest. You all can come back tomorrow, if you'd like."

Jazz shook her head. "Mom ordered us on the next flight back." She gave her uncle a sheepish grin. "She wasn't too happy with us when she found out we flew out here without telling her."

Yassen's lips pursed and his eyes hardened slightly. "Nor was I."

Jazz blushed, glancing at her shifting feet like a child caught up after curfew. "_Ya orgorchyenn, dyadya…._"

Yassen gave her a small smile and a nod. "It's fine. I'm sure you have a flight to catch."

"Right," Jazz said, waving the others towards the door. "Let's get going." She glanced back at Danny and smiled. "Get better soon, little brother."

Danny returned her smile, and the others migrated out, calling out their own good-byes. With them gone, he looked back at Yassen. "When can I leave?"

"They want to keep you overnight for observation," he said succinctly. "You'll be released in the morning." He stood, knowing visiting hours were ending soon. "Get some rest. I'll pick you up in the morning."

"And I'll be staying with you?" Danny asked sleepily, fighting off a yawn.

Another half-smile was sent his way. "_Da_, Daniil, you'll be staying with me."

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

Danny lugged another stack of boxes up to the door, knocking and waiting with Reid for Yassen to open the door. He glanced up at the genius. "You guys didn't have to help me move, y'know."

Reid just smiled back. "We know. But we wanted to." Then, he nodded across the parking lot at Morgan and Rossi, who were unloading a bed from the truck. "Besides, Morgan would _never_ pass up an opportunity to show off in front of women."

And sure enough, all the female neighbors were out and watching the move-in process. Danny chuckled. "Yeah, he never needs an excuse to flirt, does he?"

Both were snickering by the time Yassen unlocked the door, holding it open so they could enter. All three made their way from the small hallway that was the entrance to the two-bedroom apartment Yassen had finally moved into.

The living room was directly across from the door, made up of a TV, couch, and table. A doorway to the left of the entrance marked the kitchen while the right held a bathroom. There was a long table, capable of seating eight, on the opposite side of the living room as the TV and couch. Branching out from the living room were two other hallways, one going north and the other south. Danny and Reid took the south hall towards Danny's room. Yassen's was down the other way, along with another bathroom. A door next to Danny's bedroom opened to a laundry room, complete with washer-dryer and fold-away ironing board.

Danny nudged his door open with a foot, glad he'd not shut it on his way out. Reid followed the teen into the dark-painted room, taking a moment once again to study the walls.

At first glance, it looked as though someone—a child, perhaps—had splattered white paint onto the dark navy of the walls, but if one took a moment to study the dots splashed atop the previous paint job, they would realize that it was actually done quite carefully to mimic the stars in the night sky. A thick, dark green carpet covered the floor, finishing off the outdoors-y theme of the room.

"Where do you want the boxes?" Reid asked, lifting said boxes a little higher.

"On the dresser." Danny nodded at the one piece of furniture already in place before setting his own box on the floor between the door and the side wall. "I'm pretty sure everything in those belong in or on the dresser, but I'll sort them later." He turned his box, checking the label and nodding again. "This will be the nightstand once it's put together."

One of Reid's eyebrows jumped towards his hairline. "_You're_ going to build it?"

Danny blushed. "Believe it or not, I fixed a lot of my parents' inventions. Not counting the Portal."

Reid chuckled at that. "Wish you _hadn't_ fixed hat one, huh?"

"You could say that."

There was a soft thud from the hallway before Morgan leaned into the room. "Where do you want the bed?"

"Ah, over against this wall." Danny thumbed over his shoulder at the wall behind him.

Morgan nodded, disappearing for a moment before coming back in with Rossi, bed held between them. As they eased it to the floor, Morgan asked, "So, where'd Yassen run off to?"

Danny shrugged. "Don't know. He opened the door for us, though, so he has to be around _somewhere_."

"Does he disappear like this a lot?" Rossi asked, still a bit suspicious of the ex-assassin.

Danny shot him an almost-glare. "He comes and goes. Why?"

Rossi's hands flew up, palms forward, in a placating gesture. "Just asking.

Any response Danny would have made was cut off by the doorbell. The teen blinked. "Who—?"

The bell rang again.

Morgan smirked. "Sounds like you should go get that."

"R—Right." Danny stood back up, heading into the hall and angling for the door. He vaguely heard Reid ask something about warning someone but dismissed it as he reached the entrance to the apartment. "Who is it?" he called through the door.

"Hotch. I came to help with the moving."

Danny glanced behind him, seeing no other boxes that needed to be moved or emptied and thinking back to the truck outside, which had also been emptied. Still, he opened the door, knowing Hotch wasn't a threat to him or Yassen. "We've pretty much finished with the move-in—GAH!" he cried as a blonde, brightly-dressed blur lunged at him. He was thrown off-balance by the attack/hug and landed with a crash.

"Danny!" the blur—Garcia—exclaimed.

A few chuckles sounded above him, proving that Hotch and Garcia weren't the only two who had come. "Garcia, you _do_ realize he needs to breathe, right?" JJ giggled.

"Oh!" Garcia gasped, eyes wide as she leapt back to her feet. Once she was standing, she offered a hand up to Danny, who took it, gulping in as much air as he could. Garcia hugged him again, considerably less tight, and said, "I missed you!"

Prentiss laughed. "You saw him _yesterday!_"

"And it feels like _forever!_" Garcia declared. "Which is why I'm throwing him a house-warming party!"

"Wha?" Danny gaped, still trying to catch his breath.

The group of four came in then, and Danny noticed that each was carrying a bag or two.

"What're… those?" he asked.

JJ lifted one of her bags. "Decorations—"

"Streamers—" Prentiss added, lifting a bag of her own.

"Snacks—" Hotch chipped in, nodding at one of the bags he carried.

"Drinks—"

"Cake—"

"And party hats!" Garcia finished, grabbing a bag she'd left outside. Several helium-filled balloons were tied to the handles.

Danny chuckled at them, but lead them to the living room just the same. Morgan, Reid, and Rossi were already waiting, grinning at all the supplies Garcia had brought.

"Geez, Baby Girl, didja bring enough?" Morgan asked, laughing at Garcia's indignant look.

"Oh, hush!" she huffed in response, swatting at him. Then she turned to Danny. "Now, c'mon, hun, get your uncle out here!"

Danny nodded, accepting his task, and went down the far hallway to Yassen's room. He gave a soft knock on the door, waiting for a reply. The teen's eyes slipped shut, still exhausted from his stay with the Drakes, but he shook himself awake.

"Still tired, then?"

"GAH!" Danny yelped, jumping at the unexpected voice as his uncle, once again, snuck up on him. It annoyed Danny to no end that, even with his hyper-acute senses, his uncle could _still_ sneak past him. "Don't _do_ that, _dyadya!_"

Yassen chuckled. "_Ya orgorchyenn, plyemyannik_." He briefly studied his nephew before speaking again. "You haven't been sleeping, have you?"

Danny shrugged. "I've been a little busy."

The ex-assassin frowned. He opened his mouth to respond when Garcia called out from the living room, asking what was taking them so long. Yassen glanced at Danny, saying only, "We'll discuss this later." Then, he led the way out into the living room.

Danny paused on his way, his eyes closing and letting his senses flood him with information. His uncle was slinking over by Reid, who smelled (and felt) like well-read books. Hotch, stiff as ever, was speaking with Italian-cooking Rossi and cologne-and-dog Morgan. The teen had to chuckle at that realization. Of course Derek the Ladies' Man Morgan would smell like a dog. Though that was probably more due to Clooney than Morgan's usual one-date/night-only stance on relationships. The girls buzzed nearby, most of said buzzing due to the ever-enthusiastic Garcia, since Prentiss and JJ never really got that ecstatic over something so trivial. In fact, the latter two seemed happier just sipping on their drinks and watching their friends, which made sense, as JJ was probably eager to head back home to her son and Prentiss would love to get something new to tease Morgan about.

The half-ghost's eyes shot open. There was _no way_ he could have known all that just from his senses. And yet… he just _knew_ he was right. Just like he knew Sam to be his obsession, there was something instinctual about the things he uncovered with his acute senses.

He shook his head and finally made his way to the living room. He could worry about his increased perceptiveness later. Right now, he had a party to get to.

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A/N: Once again posting after midnight. Sigh. And here I thought I'd actually manage a post around 9…. Oh, well. Read and review, please! And if you have any suggestions as to how characters should smell/feel to Danny, please send them along!


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: So, those of you following _Falling Is Easy_ may've noticed that Danny's on sleep meds. This chapter will clarify that a little bit more. Yes, that does mean he's still on them. Just one more problem he's got to deal with.

Playlist for this chapter: "Swing Life Away" by Rise Against, "Fix You" by Coldplay, "Empty" by The Click Five, and "Stitch By Stitch" by Javier Colon. Yes, I watch The Voice.

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

Sleep just wasn't coming. That wasn't anything new, though, and Danny knew how to fix it. He'd become accustomed to avoiding sleep while on the road, usually by drinking insane amounts of caffeine, but also having the too-terrifying-to-go-back-to-sleep nightmare, so much so, in fact, that in order _to_ sleep, he now required sleeping pills. He'd gotten a doctor in a free clinic to prescribe the first bottle of the meds and kept getting them at similar clinics throughout the past year. It was basically the only thing he'd kept with him each time he packed up and left a town during his little trip, up until Reid had taken him in.

He'd known right away that he couldn't let the FBI know about the pills, and that thought was cemented in his mind when Morgan nearly arrested him for giving Reid an energy drink. That kind of immediate response could only mean Reid had, at one point, had his own drug problems. Danny made sure to keep his pills hidden from them all after that realization, and he knew they'd have to _stay_ hidden around his uncle.

For right now, though, Danny's "stash" was hidden away in the bathroom's medicine cabinet, so the teen pushed away his covers and swung himself out of bed, angling immediately for the front bathroom. He felt out the walls and furniture with his strengthened senses to avoid stumbling and possibly waking his uncle. As such, he arrived in the bathroom in a timely manner and immediately popped open the cabinet door and began rooting through the various bottles for the one he'd added to the collection.

"Looking for something?"

Danny jumped, yelping at the unexpected voice. He spun to see Yassen leaning against a wall in the corner. There was a clattering noise as several of the bottles fell to the floor, but Danny ignored them, focusing instead on the container his uncle held, which read "Lunesta—Eszopiclone."

Yassen also studied the object in his hand before glancing back at Danny. "This is pretty strong medication. And, oddly enough, I don't remember filling a prescription for it. So how, exactly, did it come to be in my medicine cabinet?"

Danny shrugged, unwilling to either lie or point the finger at himself.

"Daniil," Yassen began, his tone drawing Danny's eyes back up from where they'd been studying the floor, "why is this here?"

"I—I can't sleep without it," Danny mumbled, eyes aiming at the floor again.

Yassen's blue eyes softened into a look few had ever seen on him. "Daniil, how long have you been taking these?"

The teen refused to answer, scuffing his feet into the floor as he spun his wrists.

"Daniil." No response. "_Daniil_." Nothing, just quicker spins. "_Plyemyannik._"

Danny's eyes snapped back up to Yassen's face, still spinning his wrists.

"How long?"

The halfa sighed. "A year and a half."

"How many?" Yassen knew the boy's system processed drugs quicker than normal and that the usual dosage was a single pill per night, so he expected to hear about triple that.

"...Five or six."

Yassen blinked. "Five or—? Daniil, how many did you start out taking?"

Danny shrugged. "Two. But then that wasn't working any more so I upped it to three… then four…."

"Daniil, you're addicted to these pills."

Fierce neon green eyes met pale blue. "I am _not!_" His hands were fisted and shaking, his whole body quivering.

Yassen placed the bottle on the counter, reaching out to lay his hands on Danny's shoulders before kneeling to the teen's eye level. "Daniil, you _are_ addicted."

Danny sighed, eyes slipping closed. "I know…." He chuckled humorlessly, dragging a hand through his hair. "I've really screwed up, haven't I?"

"Yes. But we can fix this, Daniil. We _will_."

Danny grinned weakly at his uncle as they both realized he was still rotating his wrists almost obsessively. "Then we'll fix this ADHD thing, right?"

Yassen smirked. "We'll certainly try. But no meds for that, alright?"

"Deal."

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

There was a knock on the door. No one _ever_ knocked on the door. Danny decided he was being rightfully cautious when he grabbed one of the small guns Yassen kept in the apartment, sneaking towards the door while hiding the weapon behind it. He gripped the door knob, blanking out any expression on his face like Yassen taught him as he pulled the door open.

Two men (in _suits_, his mind screeched) were waiting outside. With the door now open, one of the two suits drew a card from his pocket, reading something off it before speaking. "We're looking for a—" he checked the card again "—Yessane Greegovick?"

Danny forced back his wince at the mangling of his uncle's name. "Who are you two?" he demanded, fingering the safety on the gun still hidden behind the door.

Both tugged badges from their pockets, displaying them for Danny to study. Meanwhile, the first continued, "We're from the CIA. Is there a Yassan Gregvich here?"

"Why do you want to know?" Danny had cocked the gun as he spoke to hide the noise.

"Our superiors wish to—"

Danny drew as soon as he heard the "s" word. Gun aimed at the one who couldn't pronounce his uncle's name, Danny barked, "_Get. Out._"

The quiet one blinked in surprise before slowly raising his hands, palms forward. "W—We aren't here to hurt him," he stammered. "We just have to take him to—"

"You're not getting anywhere _near_ him," Danny snarled, turning the gun onto him. "Now, get _out_ of here!"

"Daniil." The calm voice came from behind as Yassen took in the scene.

Danny didn't move a muscle, still aiming at the suits. "They're CIA," he explained.

"I know. Put the gun down, Daniil."

The teen glanced back at Yassen, aim not wavering. "What."

Yassen's attention was already back on the agents. "What did you need?"

The first immediately responded, "We are under orders to take you to our superiors." He waved behind him at the black SUV parked in the lot.

The ex-assassin studied the car and the two agents before nodding. "Alri—"

"_NO!_"

All three turned to Danny at his outburst. He still aiming at the agents, but his free hand was fisted and spinning at the wrist rapidly. A single glance was all it took to convince Yassen to speak with Danny before leaving. He motioned for the agents to wait a moment and pulled Danny off to the side.

"_Plyemyannik_," he murmured, sticking to Russian as he continued, "I need to go with them."

Danny shook his head rapidly. "Y—You _can't!_" he exclaimed, also using his uncle's native language. "They're _CIA_, and you're a wanted murderer who's supposed to be _dead!_ I—If you go with them, they'll arrest you and I'll never see you again!"

Yassen knelt to Danny's eye level, having noticed the boy's breathing hitch. "_Plyemyannik_, I will be _fine._ If they haven't arrested me yet, I doubt their superiors will."

"B—But—"

"If you're so worried, then come get me if it's taking too long."

Danny smirked. "Was that permission to tail you?"

Yassen's expression didn't change. "You tell me." Then, he stood, heading for the door and the agents. "I'll be back in half an hour."

Danny nodded. "Alright, bye." He waved them out, shutting the door behind them. Once he was sure they'd gotten in the car, he transformed, immediately turning invisible and intangible. "Thirty minutes my ass," he grumbled before following the SUV onto the road.

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

They only drove for five minutes, making some stupid small talk that made the suits look like idiots. Then, they pulled over and all three got out. There was a group of four guys just milling about, but they came straight to the CIA agents when they saw them.

One, a taller Scottish fellow, slung an arm over the first agent's shoulders. "Thanks for bringin' 'im here, laddie. Now, you two run off while the adults talk."

The other tall man from the new group shooed the two away. Then he turned to Yassen as Danny took a position behind a garbage can. "So, you're the famed Yassen Gregorovich?" He, at least, pronounced the name right. "I must say, I expected someone a bit more… menacing."

"You can't always judge someone by their appearance."

For some reason, three of the group glanced at the fourth member, an older, short man. Then, their attention snapped back to Yassen.

"We want to offer you a job," the second man continued, grinning.

Yassen's eyes narrowed. "What kind of job?"

"A mutual friend mentioned your particular… skill set to us, and that type of expertise would be highly beneficial for us."

"Especially with Higgins pushing Casey off of field duty in a few years," the third, a black-haired man, added.

Again, the three younger turned to glance at the eldest.

"Maybe it would be best to introduce yourselves _before_ offering a job to a stranger?" Yassen hinted, an eyebrow raised.

"Right," the second man said. "I'm Michael Dorset. These are my team, Billy Collins," he gestured to the Scot, "Casey Mallick," the eldest, "and Rick Martinez."

Yassen nodded at them all. "You obviously already know who I am, so the question becomes who told you where to find me?"

"Aaron Hotchner," Michael stated. "He told me you were looking for a job, and we could use your specific skills set once Casey is taken off field duty."

"Does your team really require another member?"

"Let's just say," Casey answered, "that it's better to train a new recruit _before_ relying too heavily on them."

Yassen eyed the man. "You don't exactly seem the retiring type."

Casey smirked. "I'm not. Our _director_ is doing all he can to shut down our team." The title came out sounding more like a curse.

"You… don't seem thrilled with your director."

"Higgins doesn't exactly approve of our methods," the Scot, Billy, explained.

"And what _are_ those methods?"

"They often involve using me as bait," Rick stated dryly.

"Only when we need an excuse to mount a rescue," Michael corrected.

Yassen smirked. "Sounds like my _plyemyannik_."

Danny jumped at the mention, accidentally knocking over the trash can he was hiding behind. The response was immediate from the agents, Michael firing off a quick shot at the can, causing Danny to be shocked back to visibility.

"Careful where you aim that thing!" he yelped, glaring at the agents. A snicker from his uncle drew the glare to Yassen. "Thanks for giving away my position, _dyadya._"

"You reacted."

"Who's the kid?" Michael inquired, casting a wary glance at the eavesdropper.

"I am his uncle," Yassen stated simply.

"Wait," Rick interrupted, "you mean, he's your _nephew?_"

A keening sort of noise escaped Danny as he clamped his trembling hands over his ears, eyes squeezing shut. The teen shook, whipping his head back and forth as though to shake away a thought.

"I think ya broke 'im, laddie," Billy murmured, clapping Rick on the shoulder.

The rookie stammered, trying and failing to come up with an excuse.

Meanwhile, Yassen whispered a few words to the teen, who vanished. All four agents stared in shock at the spot the teen had been.

"W—What—? W—Where'd he—? _How—?_" Rick rambled, eyes wide.

Yassen locked eyes with Michael, asking, "Would there be a safe place to talk?"

Michael nodded. "C'mon, we can head to another location."

A short walk later, and all five were seated at a private table in a rather exclusive-looking restaurant. Once he was assured it was safe to speak, Yassen studied the four agents before he began. "Daniil has a… negative association with that word."

"What, nephew?" Casey specified. "How did that happen?"

"My former employers took offense to my resignation. They decided the best way to inform me of their disapproval was through Daniil."

"What happened?" Rick asked, appalled that someone had actually gone at this man's family in order to get their revenge.

"We got him back," was Yassen's reply, "and put my former employers out of business."

"So, if he has such a bad reaction, what do you call him?" Michael wondered.

"_Plyemyannik_," Yassen answered. "It's only the English word that he finds aversive."

The group nodded at that, understanding the logic. Then, "How did he disappear like that?"

"Daniil is—"

"Half-ghost," the teen finished, fading back into view. The four Office of Disruptive Services agents displayed varying levels of surprise, from Casey's slight widening of his eyes to Rick's jump that landed him on the floor rather than his seat. Danny slid into a chair, glancing over at his uncle's menu. "We're getting lunch, right?"

Yassen chuckled, reassuring the teen that, yes, food was coming, before explaining Danny's half-ghost status to the CIA agents. They took it in stride, which was surprising as only Billy the Scot had even believed in ghosts before then. He responded to their surprise with a simple, "Scottish. Land of the Haunted Houses, y'know." Danny just laughed until the food came.

The agents were then met with a new surprise. For several minutes, they just sat and watched as Danny shoveled away his food, eating almost double the amount the four agents ate combined.

Michael was first to recover this time. "Side effect of the half-ghost thing?"

Danny just nodded, continuing to eat.

"A—And you don't gain a ton of weight?" Rick stammered. He was still absorbing and processing the whole half-ghost thing.

"Nope. In fact, I could actually use a bit more weight. Reid and Garcia are a bit worried since my ribs are still visible."

"How'd that happen?" Casey asked, curious.

"Yassen's ex-employers," Danny said simply.

Which brought the attention back to the assassin. "So, any thoughts on our job offer?" Michael inquired.

THere was a short moment in which Danny shared a glance with his uncle as the ODS operatives waited for a response. Then, "I've given it some thought."

"And?"

Yassen smirked. "You have a new member."

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

Most teens dream of being a spy. They think of the fun of going undercover, the excitement of fighting off a bad guy, the glory of a successful mission. They don't usually imagine the paperwork or the begging and pleading required to even _get_ a case.

Then again, most teens don't live with a member of the ODS.

Yassen didn't have many rules for what Danny was and was not allowed to do. As such, Danny often found himself bored and would then drop in on his uncle at work. While at "the office," Danny would make good use of his ghost powers by setting up pranks for the four agents who'd recruited his uncle. They always had a good laugh over his more… inventive tricks.

But he'd also prank the director, H. J. Higgins. The man pretty much despised the ODS, so Danny decided it was his job to make life difficult for the man who made his uncle's life difficult.

Those pranks didn't get laughs. And today was apparently a bad day to begin with for Higgins.

"GREGOROVICH!" The yell could be heard throughout the whole building.

The five members of the ODS shared a glance, immediately knowing what had riled their boss. "Wonder what the kid did this time," Michael said, grinning.

Yassen ignored this, instead starting the walk down to Higgins' office. THe others followed, proving the ODS left no man (or ghost-powered teen) behind.

Higgins was standing outside the room, scowling at his underlings and daring them to laugh. A quick glance showed the prank of the day: Danny had superglued everything that had been on Higgins' desk to the ceiling. Including his laptop, which was currently playing a video that was probably both expensive and illegal.

Billy smirked at that. "Well, that's a rather embarrassing movie you've got there, Director."

Higgins' glare turned to him for a second before moving to Yassen. "I want," he snarled, "your _nephew_ gone. _NOW._"

There was a shriek from outside, followed by a secretary rushing in and yelling for Yassen. THe man rushed into the hallway, noticing immediately what had happened.

Danny was huddled, shivering, against a wall, hands clawing at his ears. His eyes were clenched tightly shut and whimpers escaped his mouth. Yassen knelt beside him, careful not to touch or startle the teen. The ex-assassin murmured a phrase, over and over again, in Russian, and the teen slowly began to calm down.

"What's he saying?" Michael asked, turning to Rick.

"'You're home'," Rick answered, barely above a whisper.

The four ODS agents shared a confused look at that, but it was working. Danny was uncurling himself, the shivering slowing down, and his eyes opened. His hands were still covering his ears, though, and something was seeping down the sides of his neck.

Yassen took his time pulling Danny's hands from his ears, echoing that phrase like a mantra. Once the red ooze was visible, he glanced back at the ODS, silently asking for a First Aid kit. Casey was gone and back with one in what seemed like seconds. He handed it over, and Yassen quickly wrapped up Danny's clawed ears. With that done and the exhausted teen falling asleep where he sat, Yassen stood, gathering the boy into his arms and explaining, "I'll be back to deal with _him_ once Daniil's safe." With a parting glare at Higgins, Yassen left.

The remaining ODS members tossed their own glares at their director.

"What was all that about?" Higgins demanded.

"That," Billy snarled, "was you srewin' us out of havin' a new, highly-qualified member!"

"What?" Higgins was furious. "What did _I_ do? The kid messed with _my office!_"

"You—!" Michael cut himself off before he could insult his boss, for once. "Have you ever _wondered_ why no one calls Danny 'nephew'? Has the thought even crossed your mind?"

"No. Why?"

"The kid was _kidnapped_," Casey snapped, "by Yassen's old employers, less than two months ago. They _tortured_ him to try to get Yassen back, and one of them kept calling Danny 'nephew'."

"Calling him that triggered a flashback or panic attack, sir," Rick continued, polite as always. "You could've caused a serious set-back in his recovery."

Higgins blinked, not having known any of this. "...So, there's no chance that Yassen will stay with the agency?"

Michael sighed. "Well, that all depends on Danny, now, doesn't it?"

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

Danny was already asleep by the time they'd gotten back to their apartment. Yassen carried him to his room, laying him out gently on the bed. He pulled off Danny's sneakers and tucked him under the blankets. The ex-assassin turned to leave when something latched onto his wrist. A glance down showed Danny had woken, but not fully, as blurry blue eyes blinked up at him.

"_Da, plyemyannik?_"

"Thank you," Danny mumbled, "for pulling me out of it."

"It was no trouble, Daniil."

"I know. I just needed to say it… before I left."

Yassen blinked. "What do you mean, before you left?"

"Mom called. I'm—I'm going back to Amity Park."

The ginger sat on the edge of the bed. "You don't sound happy about that. I thought you'd be glad to go home."

"It's not home anymore." Danny pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. "They're—They're not my family. All of them… they're all clones."

"You can't know that for sure."

"...You're right," Danny said after a long moment, "I can't." His eyes went steely, determination spreading across his face. "But I can if I'm around them."

"What?"

"I'll figure out a way to know for sure if they're clones or not. But to do that, I'll—I'll have to go back." The boy bit his lip, his resolve wavering at the thought of going alone.

Yassen rested a hand on Danny's shoulder. "Do what you have to, _plyemyannik_, to get your family back. You'll always be welcome here if you need it."

It took a moment, but a slow, small smile spread over Danny's face. "Thank you, _dyadya_."

"No problem, Daniil. Just tell me my sister is back."

"I'll do my best."

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

For the second time in just a few months, the BAU team (and friends) were seeing off an Amity Parker. This time, four spies and an ex-assassin came along, as well. They all crowded into the gate, saying their good-byes to a rather sullen Danny Fenton.

He nodded his farewell to the ODS, each of them grinning and saying he's welcome to come back and trash Higgins' office any time. The BAU would've received the same nod, but Garcia cut him off with a crushing hug. He chuckled lightly while asking for an explanation.

"We spent too damn long pulling you out of your shell," she murmured. "Don't you _dare_ crawl back in it."

He sniffled a bit at that, blinking back tears to be leaving the new family he'd found here. "I'll try, Garcia."

"That's all I ask." She pulled away with one last squeeze to let Prentiss and JJ hug the teen, as well. They whispered their own good-byes, telling Danny to call them if he had any problems or just wanted to talk. Hotch and Rossi each clapped his shoulder and echoed their ability to answer their phones. Then they, too, stepped to the side.

Morgan pulled him into a quick hug. When he was released, Danny gave him a confused look. Morgan just smirked. "No more handing out Cocaine to caffeine addicts, alright? The next cop to catch you might not be as lenient as I was."

Danny grinned at that. "Who says I'll get caught? You'd've just thought he'd had his usual over-sugared coffee if he hadn't ratted me out."

They all laughed at that. Then Reid stepped forward. He gave a quick grin. "Go find out what you need to, Danny. And feel free to visit anytime."

Danny smiled, nodding. "I'll hold you to that." He turned to his uncle.

Yassen nodded to Danny, muttering something in Russian and patting him on the shoulder. "Don't forget that you can call _any_ of your friends, even those in another country."

The two smirked as Danny's flight was called to board. Danny grinned at them all once more, saying, "That's me. I'll see you all later."

And just like that, he was headed home for the first time in two years.

(|_04| 4|\||) |)4663|2

A/N: And I now have carpal tunnel. -.-' Anyway, that's it for this story, and the sequel, _Don't Believe the Lie_, should be up once _Falling Is Easy_ is done. I'll let you all know once the first chapter's up. And, yes, I brought in _another_ crossover through the CHAOS group. But let's face it, they're Yassen's kind of team. :)

Y'all can skip this next paragraph if you like, I just need to rant. This past semester, while being my easiest semester to date, has killed my inspiration. I can literally count the number of pages for DBtL I've written on one hand. What this means is that, until I've got it more planned out, you may not see much updating (if any) from me. This is literally driving me insane, since writing is basically my only outlet right now. I've been dealing with a lot of stress and other emotional issues and without being able to write anything, stuff's just sort of festered to the point where I never want to do anything anymore. Luckily, some awesome friends of mine live in a dorm with a piano and let me come over every so often to have a jam session when we all have free time. But with finals next week and a mess of stuff going on leading up to them, I'm flipping out and can't manage to write anything to relieve that. So, I might seem to drop off the face of the earth for a while until I get my head back together and the sequel back on track. I have tons of ideas for it, they just refuse to be written right now.

Okay, rant done. Read and review, please!


	12. NoteSneak Peeks

A/N: Hey, guys. Just wanted to let you all know that the sequel to this, _Don't Believe the Lie_, is taking longer than expected. It doesn't help anything that I've been unable to write due to finals and my parents getting on my case about finding a job, so I lost my rhythm writing this series. I'm currently working on getting it back on track (the two or so chapters I've written completely suck and need to be majorly rewritten before they're anywhere _near_ good enough to post), but it may take a little longer than I originally thought.

In the meantime, I _am_ still working on _Falling Is Easy_, which will have a _huge_ role in _DBtL_. Please feel free to read that while I get my act together.

And, as promised, since it's taking a while, you guys get a sneak peek at a couple of the better scenes that will be coming in _DBtL_. Enjoy.

5|\|34| |033|

Sam grinned when she saw her friend headed towards her. "Hey, Danny, what's—?" He blazed past her. "—up." She sighed, turning to Jazz and Tucker as they walked over. "He's been like this ever since he came back. What's going on?"

Tucker shrugged, and Jazz sighed. "I don't know. He won't talk to us anymore. Danielle's the only one he even lets near him." Jazz nodded down the hall to where Danny and his clone were standing, the girl chattering away happily. "He just locks himself in his room or goes to the Hill. He spent the night out there, y'know."

"What?" Sam gasped. "Why?"

Jazz shook her head. "Dunno. Mom just said his ADHD's getting worse. She's planning on taking him to stay with his godfather."

The two younger teens gaped. "Huh?" Tuck said. "What godfather?"

The redhead frowned. "I told you about him, didn't I?" She thought back. "Yeah, remember the friend of Mom's who left before we found out about Danny's hallucinations?"

"Yes," Sam snarled, "still mad about the apparent abandonment.

"He's Danny's godfather."

"_What?_" both shrieked.

"That jerk?" Sam hissed.

"Why'd he leave Danny if he was his godfather?" Tuck wondered.

"Because he had ADHD, too. Or ADD, as it was called then," Jazz responded, leaning back against the lockers. "He stayed with us for almost a year, which was a _lot_ longer than most places. But by that point, he was getting restless. So, he left."

"Left Danny to kill himself," Sam grumbled.

"No," Jazz murmured back, pausing as a group of jocks walked by. Once they were gone, she continued. "He told Mom about his suspicions before he left. It's actually _because_ of him that Danny's still alive."

The three stared across at the two half-ghosts again. Danielle was still jabbering at her older counterpart. Every so often, Danny's mouth twitched as though he was going to smile, but it never truly formed. Each time he failed to smile, Danielle seemed to droop a little more.

Sam turned back to Jazz. "...This guy can help Danny?"

"He did before," the elder replied.

"...When does he leave?"

Jazz bit her lip, watching as Valerie went over to the half-ghosts and joined the (one-sided) conversation. Valerie was the only other one who Danny really let near him. "Tomorrow. He and Mom leave in the morning."

"Wh—Where are they going?" Tuck asked.

"...Santa Barbara."

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"Psychic, huh?"

Shawn and Gus jumped at the unexpected voice, both spinning to face the door and grabbing whatever object was closest as a makeshift weapon. Gus hoisted up a stapler while Shawn held a tiny flashlight. But when they saw the woman standing, chuckling, in the doorway, they realized they weren't in danger and shot each other a look.

"Really, Gus?" Shawn whined. "A _stapler?_ What were you going to do with _that?_"

"I could've _thrown_ it, Shawn," Gus stated angrily. "Staplers are hard and heavy and hurt when they hit you. What were _you_ going to do with that little flashlight, huh?"

In response, Shawn merely aimed the device at Gus and turned it on. Gus yelped and fell back, covering his eyes. Shawn smirked. "LED lights. Brightest lights known to man, and perfect for blinding an unwanted guest."

"You didn't blind an unwanted guest!" Gus growled back as he stood. "You blinded _me!_"

Shawn blinked, then blushed. "Oh, ah, whoops... Sorry, buddy."

The redhead in the doorway was now doubled over, laughing. She wiped a tear from her eye as she stood and tried to calm down some. "Shawn Spencer, you haven't changed a bit!" she exclaimed.

Shawn finally got a good look at their visitor and grinned. "Mads!" he gaped, rushing over to hug her, picking her up and spinning her around in his excitement. She was laughing again when he set her back down. "God, it's been, what, twelve _years_ since you were last in Santa Barbara?"

"Something like that," she replied. "So, you're saying you're psychic, now? How's Henry taking that?" She winked cheekily.

Shawn chuckled. "He's not thrilled, that's for sure. But what brings you here?"

"What is going _on?_" Gus interrupted, staring between the two. "Who _is_ this, Shawn? And how does she know you're... not psychic?" The last two words were whispered as though Gus feared someone was listening in.

Shawn slapped a hand to his forehead. "That's right! Gus, Mads here used to babysit me whenever you weren't around! She actually was heading off to college right before we went into high school." He spun to Maddie, saying, "I've told you about Gus, right?"

She nodded, holding a hand out and offering it to Gus. "The famed Dr. Watson, correct?"

Gus paused for a moment before rolling his eyes and taking her hand with a sigh. "If he's Holmes, yeah, I guess. And you are?"

"Maddie Fenton. Though I'm sure that's not the name Shawn would use."

Gus snorted at that. "Of course it's not..."

"Mads," Shawn said, pulling the attention back to himself. Gus gaped to see that Shawn actually looked concerned. "What's going on? Why have you come?"

Maddie gave him a sad smile. "You remember Danny, right?"

Shawn blinked. "The kiddo? Yeah, I remember. I met him a few years back," he explained quickly to Gus, "while I was traveling the world. I stopped in Amity Park to see Maddie and her family." Looking back to Maddie, he asked, "What about him?"

She sat heavily in one of their overstuffed chairs, burying her face in her hands. "...He's never around any more," she mumbled after a long moment. She sighed, uncovering her face and limply resting her elbows on her knees. "You need to understand that the past two years haven't been easy on him. He's gone through so much, and we—we can't figure out how to help him."

Shawn was staring, open-mouthed. He knew Danny, but he couldn't think of the now-teen as a runaway, as—as him when he was eighteen. "...You think _I_ could help? M—Mads, I—"

"He runs off all the time," she continued, plowing through his protests. "We never know where he goes or when he'll be back or _if_ he'll be back. And when he goes to class, he can't sit still and gets thrown out or just leaves, and we can't get him to tell us _why._"

Shawn slowly nodded, catching on to why she'd come to him. "His ADHD is getting worse." Shawn had been visiting the family nine years ago when Danny was first diagnosed. At the time, he saw that the kid could handle himself, knew that Danny would learn to control his ADHD. But now... "What made him—? He was doing better, though, wasn't he?" He barely noticed that Gus was still there, still listening. "He was off his meds and doing well in school, right?"

"Yes, but like I said, the past two years have been difficult. We—We weren't around, a—and he had to leave. He was living on the streets for two years and needed the hyperactivity to keep safe. But, now that he's back home—"

"It's working against him."

The two stared at Gus for a moment. Shawn knew it was a worry his friend had always held for him, seeing as Shawn never bothered to tone down his own disorder.

Maddie just nodded, shocked. "Y—Yes," she breathed. "I need—_Danny_ needs—your help. You've managed to make a living for yourself without medication, which he refuses to take, or toning down your ADHD, which he can't. We can't help Danny, but you... Shawn, you _can_." She grasped Shawn's hands, pleading with him. "_Please,_ Shawn, please help Danny."

It was an easy decision to make. Shawn showed off his classic smile. "'Course I will, Mads. When do I start?"

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The ride to the station was fairly quiet. Well, quiet by Shawn's standards. The teen sulked in the back as Shawn rambled on about the people they'd meet at the police station. Somewhere between Buzz McNab and Officer Allen, they arrived.

Shawn didn't even wait for the car to stop, hopping out of the Blueberry to chase down the detective he'd seen. "_Lassie!_"

Danny just watched as the disgruntled detective tried to fend off the excitable pseudo-psychic. Of course, after being around FBI and CIA agents for the better part of five months, Danny's eyes were immediately drawn to the gun the officer carried on a shoulder holster. Given the glare the detective was sporting, Danny felt justified in stating, "He's gonna shoot Shawn."

Gus rolled his eyes as they got out of the now-parked car. "No," he said, "but he _does_ threaten to every time we see him."

"Cool. Maybe he finally will and I'll have to be sent back home." Danny smirked at the idea.

Gus frowned at the teen. "Hey, Shawn won't give up on you _that_ easily. When he sets his mind to something, he's guaranteed to stick with it—"

"For about two days," Danny finished. At Gus' questioning look, he added, "I know him, too, remember? Unless he's had a complete personality change in the past two years, he doesn't stick with _anything_ longer than it takes for him to have the idea to start it."

"He's been a psychic for four years already," Gus pointed out as they went inside.

Danny gave him that one. "True, but name _one_ other thing he's stuck with." There was a long pause as the two stared at each other, Danny with his arms crossed and Gus thinking hard over the years he'd known Shawn, before Gus sighed and shook his head. "Thought so."

Then the two turned to see the chaos that was the SBPD's office. Papers were strewn all over, and a _very_ angry blue-eyed, salt-and-pepper-haired detective was glaring at Shawn with a stray paper laying on his head. Shawn just grinned as he snatched the paper, displaying it proudly to the detective. "Was _this_ your card?"

"_Spencer!_" the detective snarled, grabbing the paper from him.

But by then, Shawn had noticed Gus and Danny. "Guys! Over here! Come meet Lassie and Jules!"

The detective, obviously "Lassie," spun to glare at the newcomers. "Who the hell've you brought _this_ time, Spencer?"

Shawn grinned again, wrapping an arm around Danny's shoulders to bring him to attention. "This is Danny! He's my psychic protégé." He glanced down at the teen. "Say hi, Danny!"

Blue eyes glanced warily across at the detective, wrists starting to spin. "...Hi."

Detective Carlton Lassiter rolled his eyes. "Great, another psycho."

Shawn tutted. "Now, now, Lassie, we are psych_ics,_ not psych_os_."

Danny's baleful glare turned on Shawn. "So you claim."

Lassiter blinked. "...You _don't_ believe this psychic crap?"

Danny shook his head. "No, I just don't believe he isn't psycho. Y'know, he started out driving us here himself. I was scared for my life."

"Hurtful!" Shawn whined.

Lassiter just chuckled. "Looks like your 'protégé' doesn't believe in your skills, Spencer."

"He's still new to the whole psychic thing," Shawn said, waving a dismissive hand. "His powers only recently developed.

"What do you think he is, an X-Man?"

"No, he's my _apprentice!_ Keep up, Lassie."

Lassiter rolled his eyes, but Gus was the one to respond. "I think he's referring to your description, Shawn."

"Of _course_ I was!" Lassiter glared at the duo. "I'm starting to wonder who the _real_ smart one is here."

Shawn pressed his free hand to his chest, gasping. "Are you saying you believed me to be smart? Why, Lassie, I'm honored!"

Danny slapped a hand to his face, grumbling, "It was an _insult_..."

"Get used to it, kid," Lassiter stated. "I've seen criminals pick out portions of the facts that suit their own purposes, but Spencer here must've wrote the book on it."

Danny rolled his eyes, shrugging Shawn's arm off his shoulders before turning to face the brunette. "Can we just go? Man, I don't even know why Mom thought it'd be a good idea for me to stay with you..."

Gus' eyes went wide as he blinked at the teen. "Come again?"

Lassiter seemed to be torn between laughing and choking. "Spencer actually _reproduced?_"

"Yes, I—" Shawn's eyes went wide. "Wait, wh—what? N—No!"

Danny smirked wickedly. "Oh, come on, _Dad_, tell them. Or are you _that _much of a jackass that you won't even admit to having a _son?_"

Shawn spun on the teen, gaping. "What the hell, dude?"

Lassiter had decided on laughing. "Yeah, own up to your choices, Spencer!"

Gus was too busy doing a landed fish impression to speak.

"Danny, quit it." Shawn turned to his friend. "Back me up, here, buddy! I'm _not_ a jackass!"

Gus still couldn't speak, but Lassiter couldn't pass up a chance to pick on the psychic. "I thought your dad would've taught you _something_. If you sleep with someone, you _should _help them out with anything that results from it!"

Shawn glared at the detective. "You don't even know what you're _talking_ about!"

"I dunno," Danny said, still smirking, "he sounds about on track to me."

Shawn's glare turned to the teen as he grabbed him and his friend by the wrists. "C'mon, I think we need to have a little _talk._"

Danny followed the pseudo-psychic, turning around to wave goodbye to the detective. "Bye, Lassie!"

Lassiter waved back. "Bye, Da—Wait, it's _Detective Lassiter!_"

Once outside, Shawn released the other two, turning to the youngest. "What the hell was _that?_"

The teen folded his arms over his chest. "_That_ was everyone believing _me_ over _you_. And I can make it worse if you don't let me head back home."

Shawn glared back. "No. I promised your mom I'd take care of you for a while." He turned to his friend, whining, "Gus, help me out here!"

Gus slowly shook his head. "Shawn's right, Danny. I was there when he made the promise."

"Fine," Danny snarled, "then I'll make your life a living _hell_ while I'm here!"

5|\|34| |033|

A/N: Okay, hope that tides y'all over until I get the first chapter up. Enjoy!


	13. Sequel Posted!

A/N: Alright, first chapter of the sequel has been posted under Psych/Danny Phantom crossovers. Go check it out! And here's a little snippet.

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The teen was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't even notice the car door shut or the footsteps approaching until the shadow fell over him. "Hi," he mumbled, tipping his head back to glance up at his "mom."

"Daniil Hunter Fenton," she began, hands on hips and frowning heavily, "what were you _thinking_, running off like that?"

He sighed, closing his eyes. "I couldn't sleep. I needed to do _something_, so I came out here." He opened his eyes again. "I didn't want to wake you."

"Danny…." Maddie sighed. "Fine. But at least _tell_ us next time you decide to leave, okay? Leave a note or something."

"Alright."

They were quiet for a long moment as Maddie sat down next to Danny and the two just watched the town. Then Maddie glanced down to see Danny's wrists spinning wildly. She sighed again. "...It's getting worse, isn't it?"

Danny dug his nails into his palms, forcing his hands to stop rotating. "No."

"Danny."

The teen looked away.

"_Danny._"

He sighed. "Yeah, it's getting worse."

Maddie nodded. "I thought as much." She stood, brushing herself off. "C'mon, let's get going."

Danny blinked at her. "Huh?"

She stretched out a hand to help him up. "You've got school, and I've got a couple tickets to buy. How'd you like to visit your godfather?"

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__A/N: Okay, so go enjoy that!


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